K
by Dlvvanzor
Summary: Young Light's parents are murdered and he's sent to Wammy's. For a while, he's thrilled- it's challenging AND he's meeting people like A and C! ...And L. Jerk. Then B shows up, and, well... stuff goes bad. Fast. With havoc as only B can wreak. LxL AU
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: ****Okay! So, it's AU and AT (alternate timeline), as Light will be hanging out with first-gen Wammy boys! Woot! So yeah, there will be no Matt, Mello, or Near, unless this goes way into the future, because they aren't alive yet. XD**

**You can expect LxLight then they're older, and BxC. You can also expect me to change it to first person at some point... haha. *sweatdrop***

**The first two chapters of this fanfic (including this one) are written with _huge_ amounts of assistance from my beloved fanfiction wife, The iPod Addict. Feel better soon, sweetheart, I miss you!**

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Light screamed, shooting straight up in his bed. For a moment he sat and shook, trying to dislodge from his mind what he _knew_ had to have been a dream. Had to be. In fact, he _knew _it was, because they couldn't really be dead; they were the only family he _had_. It didn't work like that in real life. Things that terrible and unfair only happened in movies and Shakespearian tragedies, not to little boys with futures like his.

Despite his genius mind, he could not convince himself that no meteor had smashed into his parent's bedroom, killing them both instantly in some unnecessarily bloody and disturbing way. Even if he had proven that he was smarter than both of his parents (put together), he still had the overactive imagination of a child, and he had to go check. Just to see. Because, strictly speaking, a meteoric collision wasn't _impossible_...

He squirmed out of his twisted sheets and sprinted to his parent's room. He opened the door and peeked in quietly. He didn't want to wake them, after all, since they were probably fine. They were always nice about it when he got scared and wanted to sleep with them, but still.

It was dark, and his parents looked undisturbed- definitely not smashed and fried by some terrible flaming rock from space. Still, though, for some reason he couldn't understand, sweat gathered on his forehead and his heart rate picked up a bit. Something was wrong.

He approached his mother's side of the bed carefully, putting a small hand on her arm and shaking. "Mom? I had a nightma-"

He never finished that sentence.

His mother's form was still, not breathing, unblinking. She was staring blankly at the ceiling, her lifeless eyes glazed but wide-open. Soichiro was crumpled on the floor, his back against the wall. His jaw had fallen open and blood leaked from a hole in his chest.

Light knew instinctively that they were dead.

His eyes started to tear up until his attention was forced to the window as it shattered.

Two men were trying to escape through it, even though they were on the second story. Hands came out of nowhere and pushed Light to the floor- a third man that Light hadn't seen, who he had been standing _right_ next to and not noticed in the darkness. How had he not seen him? The man was _huge_!

He looked up at him from the floor, his eyes wide as saucers, terrified into silence. The man took a step towards him.

The others were making their escape, already halfway out the window. "Hurry up, Carl!" one of them said anxiously. "We gotta get outta here! Kill the kid or leave him, but do it now!"

"We'll let 'em live. Let 'em suffer as payback to Officer Yagami interferin' with our shipment."

"Whatever, just _come the fuck on!_"

"I wanna talk to 'em."

"We're leaving!" the other man said. 'Carl' waved dismissively and they disappeared from sight.

The huge man took another step towards Light, who scurried backwards until he hit the wall that his father happened to be propped up against.

"Enjoy your life, kid. Growing up without your parents will either kill ya or make ya pretty damn strong. Look what it did for me! You should _thank _me."

Police sirens, getting louder. A neighbor must have called the cops after hearing the sound of breaking glass, especially when they knew that their neighbor Soichiro Yagami was in charge of the task force that had just taken out one of the biggest heroin cartels in the country.

Carl gave Light one final look, a crazed, stoned smile, and then swung himself out the window to join his comrades in their escape.

The clock struck midnight. Light was officially five years old.

Light screamed.


	2. Wammy's House

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Again, written by myself and my awesome FF wife, The iPod Addict.**

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_Bang!_

The judge hammered her gavel in one staccato burst, signifying the finality of her decision. She seemed especially crabby that particular morning, but her judgment was sound: "Seeing as Yagami Light has no living relations and with respect to his superior mental facilities, guardianship will be transferred to..." the judge looked at her paper and spent a minute working out how to pronounce the unfamiliar English words, her beige-painted lips forming the syllables until, "...Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children."

Light sighed, rubbing his temples. An orphanage, then. It sounded like a place for 'special' kids, and not 'special' in a good way. 'Extraordinary' could just as easily be a bad thing. Plus, the name was English, which meant that it was probably in England or the United States or Australia or something. So not only were his parents dead, but now Light was being forced to move away from everything he knew, into a foreign country. At least it was a country whose language he had taken up out of boredom when he was four.

His two-year-old sister, next to him in the arms of some pleasant-looking social worker, was obliviously chewing on her hand as her own statement was read.

"Guardianship of Yagami Sayu will also be transferred to Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children."

Relieved that he wouldn't be separated from his sister, at least, Light failed to pay attention to anything that was said after that. When it was finally time, he stood, bowed his head respectfully to the judge, and calmly took the hand of his escort, Kanzo Mogi. Sayu was transferred into Mogi's remaining arm and the trio left, led by the huge, lumbering man.

Mogi was no good with words, but he had worked with Soichiro on the Task Force and was probably the family's closest friend. He had fought for custody of Light, but the judge wouldn't allow it on the very-logical grounds that the same men who killed the Yagami's parents could- and probably would- come after Mogi, as well. With all of Sayu and Light's other relatives long gone, there was no one else.

They were alone.

Light looked up at the sturdy man next to him, who offered him a forced and toothy smile. "Sorry, Light-kun," he said awkwardly, carefully squeezing the small hand he held. "I really tried. But... I mean... I'm sure Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children is a great place..."

Light sat down on the curb outside the courtroom, not dignifying that with a response. He placed his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms, wishing he didn't smell so much like his house. He looked for all the world like a miniature adult, and Mogi's heart broke. The older man walked up behind him and stooped down to awkwardly pat him on the back. He didn't have any kids of his own, and he didn't have a clue about how to comfort one.

He tried, though. "Light-kun, how about we go get some ice cream?" he said, trying to sound excited. Kids liked ice cream, right?

Light vaguely appreciated the effort, but mostly he just wanted to cry. His father used to buy him ice cream every time they went to the park. Would everything _ever_ cease to remind him of what he had lost? Tears slipped out of his eyes and into his hands where they covered his face. Not wanting Mogi- or, ideally, anyone- to see him cry, he silently nodded. Mogi, hopeful, passed Sayu to Light, jumped up, and hurried away to the nearby ice cream parlor.

When Light heard Mogi's footsteps disappear, he pulled his head up, furiously wiping at his tears. He didn't want to be crying when Mogi got back. Didn't want to be treated like a child, even if he thoroughly and inarguably _was_ one. He examined the texture of the asphalt at his feet in an effort to distract himself.

When he heard Mogi return, he plastered a small, calm smile on his face and looked at him, opening his mouth to thank him. Instead of Mogi, though, it was an older, grey-haired gentleman. The man walked up to Light and stood in front of him with a soft smile.

"Yagami Light?" he asked. He pronounced the 'L' in Light's name as 'el' instead of 'rai,' so he must not have been Japanese.

Light nodded, not trusting his voice.

The man nodded back kindly. In Japanese, he said, "Do you speak English?"

He did. Curious, Light tilted his head to indicate that he was listening, holding Sayu just a bit closer and glancing over his shoulder to see where Mogi was. Wammy outstretched a hand. In English, he said, "Light, you may call me Wammy. I run the orphanage that the judge appointed you both to. Well, appointed with our consent, of course."

Light blinked at him, relaxing a little. This adult had just _not dumbed something down_. Even Light's parents had talked down to him. Of course, they didn't know _quite_ how smart he was...

"Hello. Um... why did you have to give consent?" he asked carefully.

Wammy smiled, apparently satisfied with something Light had said. "Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children specializes in- and only accepts- geniuses. It is also a _school_."

The young Light didn't know how to respond, so he just played dumb and said, "It only takes really smart kids?"

"Children who are just like you. You won't have to pretend, anymore, that you don't understand things, the way you just did. I will collect you and your sister at the time the court appointed, two hours from now. I just wished to introduce myself to you beforehand."

Light, a little startled that he had been seen through- unprecedented- looked away from him and instead at Sayu, who was playing with a rock she had found on the sidewalk. Wammy was still watching him patiently, awaiting some kind of reply.

"All right," Light finally said.

The man made to leave, but Light caught him by the leg of his grey pants. "Mr. Wammy? Where _is_ Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children?" Light released him instantly, realizing that he shouldn't have grabbed him, but Wammy didn't seem to mind. _Which made sense_, Light thought, _since the man runs an orphanage full of children who probably clung to him regularly._

"Winchester, England," he answered.

"And... how many students are there?"

"Not including yourself, twenty-five."

"Do we all have our own room?"

Wammy laughed. "Unsurprisingly, I get asked that question often. Until you are ten, you must have one roommate. Genius children tend to be somewhat socially awkward, so we require roommates to insure that everyone will have _some_ connections. When you turn ten, you may choose to have a room of your own, if you wish."

"What about Sayu?"

Wammy sat down next to him on the cement curb, which amazed Light because he had never seen someone that old- the guy had to be at least 800- sit on the ground before. "There are special facilities for the 'normal' siblings of our students, and a public school quite nearby. You will not be separated from her. At the moment, she is the only such child; often the circumstances that lead a child to Wammy's House also take away his or her sibling. We are pleased that that was not the case this time. Plus, it is certainly possible that she will turn out to be just as brilliant as you, and then can be a student alongside you."

Light nodded, thinking this over. It sounded too good to be true, and both experience and literature told him that if something _seemed_ too good to be true, it _was_.

"There has to be some kind of downside to this. What is it? Is the place tiny? Is it filthy? Do we have to do slave labor between classes? Are the teachers pedophiles?"

"Certainly not!" Wammy exclaimed. "No, Light, the place is spacious and clean and there is certainly no slave labor and no pedophiles!"

"Then what makes this place _not_ too good to _actually_ be true?" he challenged.

"It's difficult."

"Well I imagine that a school for geniuses _would_ be difficult," Light said condescendingly.

"_Extremely_ difficult," the old man amended, raising an eyebrow. "Your life will become about your education. You will never again experience boredom, and you will be taught in a _week_ more than you previously imagined your brain would be capable of processing in a _lifetime_."

Light tried to wrap his head around that, plucking a blade of grass from where it grew out of a little crack. "And my sister?"

"She will benefit greatly from being surrounded by geniuses who would be more than delighted to help her with her homework." He chuckled.

Despite himself, Light smiled. The old man had a calming air that Light was _sure_ must benefit the orphans he worked with.

"Are you one of the teachers?"

"No, no, I am just the founder. I am also an inventor. My lab is there, so you will see me around the House on a regular basis."

"An inventor?" Light asked, attention piqued. "What did you invent?"

"I'll show you a list someday."

Mogi finally reappeared, looking at the old man suspiciously and holding two melting ice cream cones- one for Light and one for Sayu. "Who are you?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"I am Quillsh Wammy, the head of Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children," Wammy replied in Japanese, standing up to shake Mogi's hand.

"Let me see some ID," Mogi, ever the police officer, demanded.

Without complaint, Wammy removed his wallet from his pocket and presented him with a British driver's license.

Mogi, handing the ice cream to its intended owners to free his hands, took it and examined it closely.

After a moment, Light sighed and held his ice-cream-less hand out for it.

"What?"

"You don't read English, do you, Mogi-san?"

A little awkwardly, the large man handed over the license. Light read it and nodded, handing it back to Wammy. In Japanese he said, "He is who he claims to be."

"Forgive me, Mr. Wammy," Mogi said sincerely. "I'm a little overprotective of these guys."

"Perfectly understandable," the old man replied politely, retrieving his license. "In fact, I appreciate it." He looked back down at Light. "Now, do you have any more questions?"

"Um, yes, what should I bring?"

For the first time, Wammy hesitated. He sighed and then finally said, "Actually, you are not allowed to bring anything."

"Nothing?" Light asked, startled.

"Nothing."

He got to his feet and looked up at Wammy, switching to English because he sensed that Japanese was harder for the old man. "What about clothes?"

"We will provide clothes for you," Wammy replied in the same language. "Whatever kind you wish, of course, but you can't bring your own." The old man waited reluctantly for the question that he knew would come next. It was the question that _always_ came next.

"...What about... my picture?"

Light fiddled around in the pockets of his little navy-blue suit coat, removing an already-crumpled photograph of himself and his parents, Sayu in their mother's arms, Light holding her foot and waving it at the camera. Soichiro had one arm around Sachiko's waist and the other hand was on Light's shoulder. Sachiko was laughing at something he had just said, although Light didn't remember what. It was the last picture of all of them together.

Mogi, not understanding the English portion of the current conversation, looked sharply at Wammy. "You're not trying to take that away from him, are you?"

"Unfortunately, I must," Wammy said to both Mogi and Light, switching yet again to Japanese. "It is policy, and a very important one. At Wammy's, every student receives a new life. You would not believe the things that have happened to some of our students, or some of the things they have done. To give _them_ a second chance, we must have _everyone_ start over."

Mogi was frowning but nodding slowly, and to Light's distress he found that he himself agreed. Silently, he handed the photo to Mogi, who took it as if it was made of gold.

"Can I come visit them?" the big man asked in a little voice.

"I'm sorry," Wammy said. "But no. I'm afraid that after today, you will never see them again. At least until they grow up and leave the House. Then, if they wish, they may find you."

"Oh..." he said faintly. He looked at Sayu, who was attacking her ice cream with so much gusto that she had almost finished all of it that was not on her face, and Light, who stared evenly back at him.

"Do you want to go?" Mogi asked quietly.

Light nodded once.

Mogi didn't say anything, but he did sweep Light up into his arms, sending the ice cream flinging towards the bricked wall of the courthouse. Mogi didn't notice (and Light didn't care, not being particularly fond of sweets), and simply hugged him close for a few minutes before putting him back down. There were tears in his eyes.

"Bye, kids," he whispered.

"Goodbye, Mogi-san," Light replied.

The men shook hands, and before they knew it the two hours had passed and Light and Sayu were officially given to Wammy's House, and then plopped on an airplane for England.


	3. C

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: I know. I'm sorry. It's because I've gone to college. All free time is spent trying to get ahead in my homework. XD It's not my iPod Addict's fault, and for this chapter: she outlined, I wrote.**

**Also, if my description of Wammy's House sounds familiar, it's because it's basically the description I used in Beautiful Disaster, rephrased. XD**

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Light woke up to someone gently shaking him. He shrieked, squeezing his eyes closed, thrashing against whatever hand was on him, seeing images of the men who killed his parents as he struggled. It was a moment before he realized that the hand had sharply removed itself from his person and a voice had replaced it, speaking quietly and soothingly to him in English.

Light opened his eyes a crack.

Right.

He and his sister were in England, their parents were dead, and they were being sent to an orphanage for geniuses. How_ever_ could he have forgotten?

Apparently, though, he had managed to sleep through a large part of the flight and the drive to the actual orphanage itself, because now he was in front of a beautiful, old, stone building that couldn't be anything else. He stared.

It was huge, or the property was, and the entire area appeared to actually be a campus as opposed to just one building. Light could see two structures from his angle from within the car, equally large and stone. They were several stories each and impressively constructed, but what caught Light's attention most was the yard _around_ the building.

Growing up in urban Japan, he had never seen much open space, and certainly had never seen a single building that owned so much land that one couldn't see the neighbors. Part of the area was covered in a small but clearly old forest, trees too tall for the young Light to see the tops of. There was a little stone well, a soccer field, a playground, a pond, a garden overflowing with vegetables and with flowers that Light had never seen, all surrounded by a tall, wrought-iron fence... it was surreal. It couldn't exist. Quite frankly, it just freaked Light out more, because how hard _was_ this school, if everything was this perfect...?

Trying not to think about it, he finally managed to redirect his attention to Wammy, who was now smiling at him, the cool air tossing at what remained of the old man's hair.

"That's the effect this place tends to have on people," Wammy said gently, a deep but quiet pride evident in his features. "You will be safe here, and as happy as it is in my power to ensure."

Light nodded, looking at the building again. Sayu gurgled in her sleep.

"I intended to ask you this in the car, Light-kun, but I did not want to wake you. Before we go in, I need to know what to introduce you as. We go by letters here for safety reasons, and in addition you will have to select a different name. You don't have to forget your real name, of course, since your parents gave it to you, but we ask that you go by the letter we give you. If you become close to another student, or if you have to give a full name in some real-life situation, we ask that you use the name you are about to select. Is that acceptable?"

Safety reasons? Why would an orphanage of geniuses need code names, and what was the threat involved? Nevertheless, Light nodded.

"Your letter will be K- the student you are replacing. Can you think of a name that starts with K that you would like to have?"

"I... not really..."

"How about Kira? Do you like that name?"

Light nodded again, afraid that if he spoke he would burst into tears.

Because no, he didn't like that name. It was from the English word 'killer,' and he wanted nothing to do with any more murder. He was five. His parents had been murdered in front of him. Wasn't that enough? He didn't want to read another mystery novel or watch another slasher movie, and he _certainly_ didn't want to think about it every time someone said his name.

He knew he could have just told Wammy that, no, he didn't like the name, but when he tried to open his mouth, no sound came out. Wammy waited patiently, but Light could force no words to leave him, so he just closed his mouth and nodded again.

Wammy smiled, small but polite and genuine. "Excellent. Thank you, K."

He already missed his name. But what could he do?

Wammy stepped out of the way so that Light could collect Sayu and climb out of the car, and he stood again in front of the orphanage, the noonday sun brilliant and... just... very _yellow_. He briefly wondered _why_ the sun was yellow and resolved to look it up as soon as possible. Somehow he suspected that this place would have a decent library.

He followed Wammy through the main doors.

It was a testament to the place's engineering that the enormous, soaring, wooden doors opened with just a touch from the old man. Light fully intended to be impressed by that, but he realized it would have to be later, for the interior decoration of the entrance hall immediately preoccupied his rapt attention.

The entire ceiling was stained glass, the noonday sun casting it in brilliant blues and whites and purples. Each pane reflected a major Biblical scene- starting with Genesis and proceeding unrelentingly to the Hellfire of Revelations.

Light gazed at it, awestruck, and then allowed his gaze to drift over the three stories of white plaster walls and warm-looking cherry wood paneling, until he noticed that the floor, possibly, was more worthy of his amazement than even the magnificent ceiling.

It was a mosaic, enormous, and it put the ceiling to shame. Each individual tile was tiny, perfectly fitted to form the Garden of Eden. Trees and other assorted vegetation dripped from every corner, animals half-hidden with a superfluous attention to detail in greens and tans and browns and blues and yellows and no red, save once- an achingly beautiful Eve, her startlingly-realistic chestnut hair tastefully covering her- stood in the middle of the room, opening her mouth to take a bite of the singular red apple. Next to her was the Tree of Knowledge, in which was curled the snake, who still had his legs. His head was tilted and his mouth was open in such a way that his maliciousness was unmistakable, and Light caught sight of a word in what appeared to be Latin, written artfully in small tiles.

"Tentationis," he read aloud, pronunciation flawless.

Mr. Wammy smiled. "Yes, Light. It means 'temptation.'"

"I know."

"Of course."

When Light appeared to be done admiring the art, Wammy gently nudged him to keep moving. "There is much to show you," he explained, and Light nodded.

He led him through the cafeteria next, which was large with a wall of windows that let in the sunlight, supporting a dozen tables and an area that looked like it would be a buffet table at certain times. "Meals are buffet style, come and go as you please. Breakfast is available from six to seven in the morning, lunch from noon until two, and dinner from seven to ten in the evening. It is not mandatory, except dinner on Thursdays."

"Why?"

"Because the tests are on Fridays. It's an attempt to get students to relax for at least half an hour a week, and for community building. Dinner on Thursday is at seven, and lasts about an hour."

"Tests?" Light asked, following Wammy to the next area, which was a high-ceilinged hallway.

"Every Friday, the students take a test on what they learned during the week. The scores are posted on Saturday. On the last day of every month, the ranks are posted. Ranks are determined by averaging each student's test scores."

"Ranks?"

"Yes. The top three students take a special class."

Light looked at him funny, but was soon distracted by a strange boy standing nearby and staring at them.

Wammy followed Light's gaze. "Ah, C. Come here, please."

The boy approached them carefully, a small smile on his face. He made no sudden movements, as if Light were a dangerous animal not to be startled under any circumstances. He stood a short distance away, watching Light closely. Was this kid crazy or just worried that _Light_ was? Did Light _look _crazy?

"K, this is your roommate, C."

"Hi," Light said warily.

When Light spoke, the boy relaxed visibly and took a few steps closer. "Hi," he replied. "Wammy said you're five. I'm nine," C informed Light.

"Uh... okay."

C smiled. There was something off about the expression, but his light brown eyes crinkled up and, if Light didn't look too hard (which was his custom, and with _everything_), it wasn't screamingly obvious. Probably just Light's imagination.

"C has been asking for a roommate for quite some time now," Wammy said pleasantly.

"What happened to his old roommate?"

"He graduated last-"

Then another old man was behind Wammy, placing a hand on his shoulder. Wammy inclined his head to listen and then jerked, demanding, "He did _what, _Roger? I swear, R..." He shook his head, then turned to Light and C.

"K, if you would give me your sister, I will take her to her area after I deal with R. C, please finish showing K around, including where his sister will be. I've shown him the dining area and I've explained the tests and the group dinners." Without really waiting for Light's permission, he hauled up Sayu.

"Yes, Mr. Wammy," C replied politely.

"Thank you." Wammy nodded and hurried out of the room on the heels of the other adult.

C and Light were alone, and for a moment they just stared at each other in silence. Light really wanted to dismiss his earlier observation about the boy, but it was proving impossible.

"Do you have a question or something?" C asked after a while.

Light ducked his head. "No," he mumbled.

C peered at him, smiling crookedly. "Didn't notice the color of your eyes before. They're a little bit red." Light felt something similar to slime start at the back of his neck and slide all the way down his spine. "You know, I've always had a thing for red eyes."

That was it.

It was the same smile as that of the man who had killed Light's parents.

Warning bells exploding in his head, Light took a step back, eyes widening. He cast about for something to defend himself with, seeing nothing even remotely weaponish- probably intentionally, because who would put weapons in a house full of emotionally unstable, genius children?

He almost didn't know how to handle it when C laughed. It was a normal-sounding laugh, diffused the fear and tension a little.

"Calm down, kid, just joking. Come on, I'm supposed to show you the rest of the place."


	4. Eraser Boy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Thanks to a reviewer, a whole aspect of this story was changed. I didn't even agree with her comment, but it made me think that it would be cool to do it that way, so there is going to be an influence of it. Proof that reviewing pays off. Especially in this fic! Suggestions are more than welcome.**

**Also, lots of letters (as in kids) introduced in this chapter. Don't worry about keeping track of them because, if they're important, you'll know, and I'll remind you who they are over and over again.**

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"And, finally, the room that was previously mine and is now ours," C said, gesturing to a heavy, wooden door. It looked like all the others except for two little gold plaques with 'C' and 'K' carved into them in Gothic font. It took Light a moment to remember that _he_ was K.

C motioned towards it so Light shrugged, opening the door.

It looked a little like a college dorm room- two beds, two desks, a futon, bookshelves, except everything was old, heavy wood. Light took a few steps in, the floor creaking pleasantly under his feet, and sat down on the bed that didn't appear to be C's. It was all made up with bright blue bedding, fluffy.

C followed him in, plopping down on his own bed, grabbing a book off his bedside table.

Light lay on his back, staring at the plaster ceiling, brain processing all the locations he had been shown and creating a mental map. The extensive grounds. The building that was all dormitories, with the tower that included the founder's room (Wammy, of course) and the room that belonged to the guy who would, quote C, "Make your life Hell if you get on his bad side," Roger. The building that was all classrooms. The tower of the classroom building that was for the professors. The wall where ranks and grades would be posted. Infirmary. The areas that his sister would frequent. Bathrooms.

Speaking of which- "I'm going to the bathroom," C informed Light. Then he blinked. "Too much information," he mumbled, and hurried out of the little room.

And with that, Light was finally, finally, alone.

He could finally, finally drop the mask.

The thing is, when your parents die, people don't leave you alone for a _moment_. Light had been surrounded by people from the moment the police came and picked him up out of his parents' blood, until right _now._

Finally, finally, he could stop pretending that he really cared they were dead.

Sure, it was inconvenient. Sure, he had been fond of them and he missed them a little bit and he really _had _wanted that picture. Sure, it had been really shocking when it happened, upsetting. Sure, it was a little scary to be in a new place, and yeah, it sucked that his sister was where she would be out of sight and out of mind.

But really?

If the death of two _very average_ people was the price for _this place_, Light would pay it gladly. He'd even throw his sister into the deal if it became evident that that was required. Heartless? Absolutely. Understandable?

C came back into the room and Light put his 'sad, tired' mask back on. The older boy glanced over at him. "Get some sleep, kid. I bet you've had a rough week." He blinked. "Um... how much English do you actually speak?"

"Plenty," Light replied, and rolled over, showing C his back, so he could drop the mask once more and try to sleep.

* * *

"K, you've gotta calm down."

Light had gotten up early and made so much noise getting dressed, fumbling around the room, that C had woken up as well. He was currently bouncing off the walls.

"I mean it. Class isn't for another..." he groaned, looking at the clock, "Two hours. And breakfast isn't until six." He ran a hand over his face. "Why are you awake at five in the morning?"

Light shrugged. "Jetlag?"

C grumbled something and rolled over. "_No one _is awake yet. Except probably L. And maybe Wammy."

"So what?"

"_So _I will be up in an hour and I am politely asking you to make less noise until that time."

"Fine," K grumbled.

"Thank you."

It was an agonizingly slow hour in which Light attempted to read something he found on the bookshelf, but it _did _eventually pass. Once C had dragged on some clothes, Light followed him through the hallways, which were, thankfully, familiar. There were a few people there and they looked at him curiously, but they were seemingly not surprised to see him.

Light followed until suddenly his path opened up to... well... something that had to be seen in morning daylight to do it justice.

This day was brilliantly sunny, and Light found himself at the top of a staircase, right in front of the railing, overlooking the huge, high-ceilinged cafeteria that he had seen previously, but certainly not from this angle. The floors and walls were paneled with dark cherry, and the wall opposite him was all windows, through which Light could see old, old trees, a small pond dotted with cattails, and the soccer field. C gave him a moment to admire the view that was still new to Light but so familiar to C, before tapping him on the shoulder to remind him to move.

Light obediently tore his eyes away from the scene just outside the window and, yet again, followed C, who led him to a table in a corner, piled high with food.

C grabbed a plate and indicated the table with his head. He grinned at Light. "The food's good. You can take whatever you want." C peered at the table. "You're Japanese, right?"

Light nodded.

"Thought so," C said, satisfied. "Whenever we get a student from somewhere other than England, they go out of their way to make a few dishes from that country. Japanese breakfast food for you. I'd get some out of solidarity, but I just love cereal too much. Cheerios are just..." Glancing around and finding no adults in the immediate vicinity, C produced a small bag seemingly from nowhere and dumped a bunch of Cheerios into it. This was, Light noticed, aside from his teeming bowl of the same product. The guy behind them in line rolled his eyes, but seemed unsurprised.

Light was instantly starving and piled up his plate. In a show of good faith, he took a distinctly British-looking muffin of some kind.

He peered at C, who was smiling slightly and humming to himself. He didn't _seem_ dangerous. Weird, certainly, but was it really his fault if he happened to have a creepy-looking smile? That didn't necessarily indicate that he was actually a threat, right?

Light forced it out of his mind and took a seat next to C at what appeared to be his usual table.

"Guys, this is K," C said casually, setting down his tray and popping some Cheerios into his mouth even as he sat down. "New kid. My roommate."

Two girls and a boy, between five and ten, Light thought, looked up from their food and smiled politely at Light, who started to bow, then realized he wasn't in Japan. Instead he said, "Hi."

"K, this is G, R, and Y."

Light didn't catch which letter went with which person, but he was distracted from that the moment they started to talk.

Because this had to be the only place in the world with kids like this, Light thought as they began to argue about things he never heard of.

One of the girls- G, maybe?- flipped her hair and rolled her eyes. "No. Listen to me. The epiglottis is _superior_ to the trachea. What good would it do if it wasn't? It's supposed to keep your food out of your trachea and air out of your esophagus. It _has_ to be in the pharynx."

"But listen to my side of it," the boy who wasn't C replied calmly. "Where exactly do the trachea and esophagus diverge? I thought it was lower than where you're saying, and, if it is, it would make sense for the epiglottis to be in the larynx."

"Um, okay," the girl said sarcastically. "If the trachea and esophagus split lower in the throat, then what's between the palatine tonsil and the epiglottis? Dead air? How much dead air do you know of in the human body, R?"

He sat with them, delightfully lost, until they started talking about something he recognized.

"It's that one music theory guy... damn it, I can't remember his name, but-"

"Schenker?" Light suggested.

"Right! Schenkerian analysis. I think it's simpler than..."

The best part was, they weren't even surprised that he knew it.

Light floated in something like bliss for the rest of breakfast time, until he was rudely dragged back to reality by Wammy tapping him on the shoulder. Light's attention gained, they exchanged pleasantries, the old man handed him a folded piece of paper, and then left to do other managerial things.

Light unfolded the paper. It was his schedule. In English, to his annoyance but not necessarily his hindrance. He immediately committed it to memory.

C leaned over to see it, too, and his face lit up. "You have second period with me!" he exclaimed. "That'll be cool."

"Yeah."

"It looks like your first class starts at 7:30. I imagine you want to be freakishly early?"

"I do."

"Think you can find it? Or do you need help?"

Light stood up quickly. "I got it."

"Okay," C said agreeably, and returned his attention to his friends, laughing at something one of the girls said.

* * *

Light managed to find his class with much, _much_ less trouble that he expected to. He didn't take a single wrong turn, and, feeling very smug about this, he held his head high and walked in.

There were only three other people in the class, and the room itself was small, just a few rows of desks. One of the occupants, a boy about his age, sat in the front, a column away from the window. Light couldn't see his face because he was hunched over a pile of erasers, stacking them delicately with a finger and a thumb, but his hair was dark and he noticed that he was crouched on his chair strangely. He had a feeling that the boy was still managing to stare at him.

Staring at _that_ boy, however, was another boy, a little older. From him, Light received no more than a cursory glance before attention was returned to the Eraser Boy. He was sitting the same way as Eraser Boy, had the same materials out on his desk, but instead of stacking erasers, he just continued to stare.

Light thought it was creepy. Eraser Boy didn't seem to notice, or, if he did, he didn't care.

The other person in the room was even younger than Light, sitting there in full winter gear, including hat with pompom. It wasn't cold. Light wondered if _he_ was or if he was just a freak like, apparently, everyone else in this room.

He didn't have any weird tics or habits. He should probably work on that.

Cold Boy smiled at him and waved. Light nodded, then took a seat between Eraser Boy and the window, the better to stare out it.

Almost as soon as he sat down, Eraser Boy's head popped up and turned big, black eyes on him. Light stared right back until Eraser Boy smirked, cocked his head, and turned his eyes to front, just as the teacher walked in.

"Welcome to your one-week Introduction to Human Anatomy course. My name is Professor Holly." She gave a thin-lipped, all-business smile and turned to face the board. "Four students? Large class. Alright, shall we begin? A, if you would please pass out the textbooks and anatomical figures... "

As Light tried to figure out that bit of grammar, Staring Boy- A, evidently- stood up and nodded agreeably, going to the back of the room and collecting the figures, passing them out, going back for the textbooks. When he was done, he sat back down with a sigh and resumed staring at Eraser Boy.

Weird.

"Thank you. Now, all of you, these are yours to keep. Name them if you are feeling whimsical. Using them, identify the following." She began writing on the board. "Adrenal gland. Aorta. Bronchi. Esophagus. Gall bladder. Heart. Inferior vena cava. Kidneys. Large intestines. Liver. Lungs. Ovaries. Pancreas. Pituitary. Small intestine. Spinal cord. Spleen. Thymus. Thyroid. Urethra. Urinary bladder. And when you're finished with that background information, we will talk about homeostatic regulation, anatomical terms, then Greek and Latin medical prefixes and suffixes, and that will bring us to the end of class. Please begin."

Blissed out and pleased at the carryover from breakfast conversation, Light sighed dreamily and began flipping through his textbook for a diagram that would allow him to identify the various bulbous protrusions of his figure, which he secretly named "Hideki." This was great. He would normally be learning about colors right now. _Colors_. Now, he was learning about organs and would soon be onto homeostatic regulation- and he actually _didn't know_ what homeostatic meant, which made him just about foam at the mouth with excitement- and Greek and Latin. Could that be any cooler? No, it couldn't.

Light and the kid next to him finished at the same time. At the sound of two textbooks closing, they glanced at each other. Eraser Boy looked a little surprised. Light returned the smirk from earlier.

Behind them, A made an indignant little sound and leaned in closer to his textbook, flipping pages a little faster.

Eraser Boy's lips curled up a little. Light watched, fascinated, as he then wiped all expression from his face, tilted his head towards the ceiling, and, pretending that he wasn't watching every single movement that went on in the room, chewed on his thumb until the teacher spoke again, ten minutes later.


	5. Girls and Tests

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Someday it will be LxLight. Just not for a long time.**

**Also, I think I confused some people about some identities. We have not met B yet, and we won't for a while. About A- I really hate that his name is 'A,' but that's canon so I'm out of luck. It's so grammatically confusing. XD ...I think I'll start to bold the names of 'A' and 'I' just for ease of reading. I think we're all okay with seeing L as a word though, lol.**

* * *

"I met some really weird kids," Light informed C as they met up in the hallway to walk to their second class.

C laughed. "Any in particular?"

"There were three. One of them was really little and he wore winter clothes."

"That would be **I**."

"**I**?"

"Yeah, he always wears that stuff. And then when it snows he builds igloos and won't come out of them. We have to bring food to him."

"Whoa..."

"Who else was in your class?"

"The only one whose named I learned was **A**."

The older boy made a face. "**A**? He's all right. Weird, yeah, and a little obsessed with L, but he's not a bad guy."

"L. Is he... about my age? Sits funny? Dark hair?"

"That's him," C agreed warily. "You have both **A** _and_ L in a class with you?"

"Is that bad?"

"No, it's just competition. **A** is ranked second. Really wants to be first, which is why he stares at L so much. I guess he figures if he stalks him for long enough he'll figure out what it is about L that makes him so much better."

"L is ranked first?"

"The kid is a genius, even by our standards. You hear Mr. Wammy talk about how, when L grows up, he's gonna change the world. **A** is jealous that he's so much smarter than all of us."

"L didn't seem _that_ smart," Light thought aloud.

"What gave you that impression?" C chuckled. "The fact that he finishes everything in half the time of everyone else? The way he doesn't take notes? The fact that the teachers let him do weird stuff in class when it looks like he's not paying attention? He's your age, but his AT was off the charts."

Light frowned. "But he _didn't_ finish in half the time of everyone else. I finished at the same time as him. And _I_ didn't take notes, either. What's AT?"

"Aptitude Test..." C paused in his step, then shook his head and continued walking. "How did you... anyway, you'll want to take notes," C suggested seriously. "You'll regret it if you don't."

"I have my textbook." Light hefted it to show him.

"Suit yourself," C said, but he didn't sound confident. "Here we are. Sociology." Light followed him in. "It's good that you came on a Sunday, K. Most classes only last a week, sometimes two, so you're coming in on the beginning of all your classes."

Light nodded wordlessly and sat down next to C, who brought out his bag of Cheerios- already about halfway depleted- and commenced munching. **A** walked in a few minutes later, nodded an acknowledgement at Light, and took a seat next to him.

"Hey. We didn't get to introduce ourselves in Anatomy. I'm **A**." He extended a hand and Light shook it.

"I'm K."

Now that L wasn't around, A looked a lot more relaxed. He even smiled a few times as they chatted before class.

"So," Light said. "**A**. Where are you fr-OW!" Light whipped around in his chair to glare at C. "What's your problem?"

The blond gave him a pained expression and shook his head, removing his foot from Light's where he had stomped on it, hard. "Subtle," he grumbled.

"You're the one that tried to _break my foot_. Don't tell _me _to be subtle..."

"Maybe I was _trying_ to shut you up before you said something stupid!"

"I speak fluent English, you know! You could have used _words _to-"

"So you're obviously roommates," **A** interjected, laughing. "What is it for you, K, day two? And you're already on good enough terms with C to argue with him? That's great."

A grinned, drawing a chuckle from C and an eye roll from Light. "Apparently."

Leaning over, **A** fumbled through a backpack that was at the side of his desk, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes. He produced a stack of notebooks.

"Here," he said, handing a black one to Light, with a pen. "I noticed you didn't have any supplies last class and I always have extras."

"Oh... thank you..." Light looked up into **A**'s green, green eyes and cocked his head. "Why do you carry extras?"

**A** shrugged, then grinned. "It's what I do?"

"Is that your thing? It seems like everyone here has some kind of 'thing.'"

"You could say that. Or maybe I'm just prepared." He nodded solemnly. "It's a mystery."

The teacher strode in, letting the door slam closed behind him. He wore a dress shirt and tie. "I'm Professor Tailor. I assume you know each other, but this is a sociology class so there's going to be group work. Stand, please, and introduce yourselves."

On the end of the row, C stood up. "Um... I'm C?"

"Now tell us something interesting."

"About what?"

"About yourself. What's your favorite subject?"

"Chemistry."

"For what reason?"

"Um... I don't know."

The teacher gave C a funny look but indicated Light. C gratefully sat back down.

"I'm K. I got here two days ago. Um... I liked my anatomy class..."

"Thank you, K. Welcome to Wammy's House."

Nodding, Light sat, and **A** stood up.

"I'm **A**. I like the humanities. I also like long walks on the beach and-"

"Yes, thank you, **A**," the teacher said, laughing. Seemingly pleased with himself, **A** sat back down.

"All right. Let's begin."

Light didn't take notes, but he did stare at his new black notebook.

* * *

When the class was over, C announced that it was lunch time, and Light followed him, glancing around. "Where's **A**?"

"Probably studying. Don't expect to see him very much outside of class. Oh and _speaking_ of **A**-" C rounded on him. "Look. I'm sorry about stomping on your foot. But you gotta be careful who you ask about their past around here. First off, it's not allowed. Technically I shouldn't have even asked you if you're Japanese. Second, some of these kids have had really bad stuff happen and it's... imprudent... to bring it up. **A** has a history of freaking out at people who ask him questions that are too personal. So just... don't ask people questions about their past, alright?"

"He didn't freak out when I asked him where he was from," Light grumbled.

"You got lucky," C said shortly. He sped up, and Light, much smaller, couldn't keep up without breaking into a job. "Now. Lunch time."

* * *

The day went by so quickly for Light that it seemed like he was back in his room for only a moment before he was whisked away to dinner by C, who insisted that he needed to meet people. "Don't be like **A**," he was advised.

Light grumbled a protest but followed the older boy to dinner. He was thrown off when C stopped in front of a table with no familiar people at it.

"Everyone, this is K. He's new. This is T, X, Z, and V."

The blond pushed on Light's shoulders until he found himself seated. A few of the kids at the table giggled. Light noticed with a jolt that they were all girls. Significantly _older_ girls.

"C, don't leave me he-"

But it was too late.

"Oh, he's adorable," one of them said with a voice that Light instantly resented.

"How old are you, K?" another asked.

"I'm five," Light said, turning red. "You know, I really should go study for my-"

"Nonsense, you've gotta eat, right? Do you need some help getting your food? Can you reach the table okay?"

"No, really, I'm-"

"Let me help you!" one of them, pigtales, cried.

"I assure you, I am more than capable of-"

She stood up, ignoring him, and took his hand, practically dragging him to the buffet table.

They passed C, who grinned at Light. Light made sure to give him the dirtiest look he could muster before he was being questioned about _each _individual dish. Light wondered how much trouble he would get in if he happened to tear off her pigtales. He was just a little kid, right?

* * *

Light slammed the door to his room. "_Why_," he demanded coldly, "did you leave me with them?"

C looked up from his sociology textbook. "What?"

"Those girls. You abandoned me at that table with four strange, _loud, _older girls who spent the entire time fawning over me and _petting_ me and half-dragging me all over the building. They tried to paint my _nails_, C!"

"You're annoyed that I introduced you to the prettiest girls in the House?"

"I'm five years old!" Light shouted. "My brain hasn't even started to _think_ about developing those hormones yet!"

"Well it will _someday_."

"That was _so awkward!_"

"Well excuse _me_ for trying to get you some contacts!"

Light sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Okay. Fine. You're right. Whatever, sorry I yelled at you."

C shrugged and went back to his homework.

Light had just started in on his own when there was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" the other boy called out without looking up.

"It's Mr. Wammy," came a polite, elderly voice.

"Come in."

The door opened, and the moustached man entered, smiling.

"Good evening, C, K. I trust your day has been tolerably pleasant?"

"Except that I'm gonna fail sociology and it's only day one, yeah," C replied sarcastically.

"I will leave you to study. I came to notify K that he will be taking his Aptitude Test tomorrow at eight o'clock in the evening. I am fairly certain you do not have a class at that time?"

Light shook his head.

"Excellent, then I will pick you up at your room a few minutes before that time. I suggest you get some extra sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day for you."

Light nodded wordlessly and the old man smiled once again before exiting the room.

"_Crap_," Light heard C mutter.

"What?"

"Sociology. Gemeinschaft and Gesellschaft. I can't remember which is which. I _know_ that's gonna be important... I thought I wrote it down..."

"Gemeinshchaft is the close-knit groups of people who actually care about each other. Gesellschaft is the opposite. You can remember because ge_mein_schaft sounds like 'mine,' like people who are yours and you care about. And then there's ge_sell_schaft, people you'd _sell_ out."

C blinked at him. "Um... thanks..."

* * *

Mr. Wammy had been right- it _had_ been a long day for Light. In first hour, **A **had stared at L so hard that it had actually made Light feel like he was intruding on something private. L didn't seem to feel this way, though, because he offered him a sugar cube, clenched between two fingers, which Light turned down with a raised eyebrow. **A** had two notebooks on his desk. One appeared to be for the class, one appeared to be devoted to writing down anything L did aside from breathing. Light even caught him jotting down a note when L scratched his nose at one point. When Light tried to smile at **A**, the older boy barely nodded back, never really taking his eyes off of L.

That day, possibly trying to be friendly, I sat down next to Light. He immediately began speaking Japanese. When L told him (In Japanese) to be polite and speak English, I said something crossly in... was it Hungarian? **A** started taking furious notes- '_L speaks Hungarian,' _Light imagined, although he didn't know what language it had actually been, and his mind was blown once more when the little kid said something to _**A**_ in Polish and **A** snapped back.

"That one is good with words," L explained at monotone. "Obviously. He talks to everyone in their first language."

C, **A**, and Light were assigned a group project in Sociology that day, and agreed to meet at lunch to begin working on it. This pleased Light, because it came with the added bonus of avoiding the girls.

In his math class, Light forced himself to talk to the students he didn't know. It wasn't hard- there were only two other kids in the class. His largest class size was four, and that was Anatomy.

His last class of the day- philosophy- annoyed him, so it felt like it took forever.

At dinner, he snuck past the girls' table and grabbed food, plopping his butt down at the first table he could find before they could snag him and demean him again.

He found himself sitting with L, who merely blinked at him and continued eating his... cake?

It was seven-thirty when Light got back to his room, and he collapsed on his bed, mind reeling. C was still at dinner, apparently, which Light was thankful for because, as great of a roommate as C was so far, they saw a lot of each other over the course of the day and a few minutes alone was appreciated.

Those minutes went by quickly, however, when he found it was time for Mr. Wammy to collect him, and he was once again in the hallways, taking a route he was unfamiliar with.

"Now, K. You're about to take the Aptitude Test. Don't worry about it too much- it's just to give us some idea of your strengths and weaknesses."

Light bristled internally. Weaknesses?

The room they entered was exactly the same as the hallways, but Light imagined he could sense the anxiety of hundreds of students that came before him. He wondered why he didn't feel particularly anxious.

"All right," the old man said, calm as ever. "This is just a simple paper test. Much of it is to see what facts you already know, to decide what kind of classes we should give you outside of the standard ones that you will take for the first several years you spend here. We don't expect you to know any of them, as it is not your fault if no one has taught you one thing or another, but do your best. You won't receive a grade on this test, per say, it is just a tool for us to specialize your education. The next part of the test is aptitude, to estimate what we might someday see from you. Lastly, there is a small portion to test your deductive reasoning abilities, which is considered a special skill here. The test is timed, but you don't have a limit- you just get extra 'points' the faster you finish. It's better to take your time and worry more about getting the right answers, though, because correct, slow answers are worth more points than incorrect, speedy answers. And with that..." He handed Light a thick packet of paper and a package of sharpened pencils. "You may begin."

He nodded encouragingly, and left Light alone in the room.


	6. The Adventure

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: You're gonna have to be lenient with me about how they act in relation to their age. This story would not be interesting at all if they acted a lot like little kids, lol. They're freakishly advanced, and that is how I will justify anything that I have them do that a five year old simply shouldn't be able to do. :D**

* * *

The test took Light a little over an hour and forty-five minutes, and, by the end of it, he was ready to scream. That, and attack anyone who had the gall to touch him, or even look at him funny.

Because, quite frankly, he had never had to _think_ so much in all his life and he wasn't used to it. For the first time, he understood what it was like to have absolutely no idea how to answer a question. There had been a language portion, and he had only been able to answer questions in English and Japanese, and he got about halfway through the Latin question before he got stuck. He skipped the dozen or so other questions, each featuring a different language.

The aptitude portion was relatively tolerable, but the deductive reasoning part made him consider going on a killing spree. A collection of facts that seemed to be completely unrelated, and he had to determine the relation- and the relation wasn't "these objects are related because they all cannot be related to each other." No, there was a specific answer, and it had taken him half an hour, _half an hour_, to find it. Infuriating. Then there were case studies...

It felt like a tornado had hit him.

And so, when Wammy let him go, Light stumbled back to his room in a daze, his brain fried and feeling like mush.

C was already in their room, lounging on his bed and reading what appeared to be a textbook. When Light walked in, he looked up and grinned. "Don't worry, it's that hard for everyone."

"Well, I finished it," Light sighed, plopping face-first into his pillow, mind spinning. "That's about all I can say."

"Really? That's good! Not everyone does, you know. Some kids just give up. They're usually the ones that end up ranked closer to the bottom, though." He was trying to be encouraging.

Light sat up a little and rubbed his eyes. "I don't have to do that ever again, right?"

"Never again. You survived. What time did you get, anyway?" C turned a page of his ever-present textbook.

"Just under two hours," Light scowled.

C stared at the page he was on, eyes no longer scanning the words. In a stiff, polite voice, he said, "Oh, really? So you gave up on the deductive reasoning part? I don't blame you."

"Huh? No."

"Wait. Really?"

"...Yes?"

"Were you trying, or did you just blow off questions you couldn't get right away?"

Light frowned. "I tried my best on every part, obviously."

Very, very slowly, C put his book down. Calmly, he asked, "How long _exactly_ did it take you?"

"One hour and fifty-three minutes."

"That," C said slowly, "Is the exact time L got."

"What?"

"K... no one finishes that fast."

Confused, Light asked, "How long does it take most people?"

"If they don't give up? Four hours. The longest recorded is seven but, for a genius, that guy is really dumb."

Light stared right back at him. "Did I accidentally skip a section?"

"Wammy probably flipped through it when you turned it in, right?"

Light nodded.

"Well, he would have told you if you skipped a whole section. K, just how smart _are_ you?"

"Um... why don't we wait until I get the test back before we get excited?" Light answered carefully. "I mean, maybe I got them all wrong."

Something changed in C's expression. He relaxed. "Oh. Yeah, that's a good idea." He leaned back against his headboard and stared at Light for a moment longer, but he didn't seem to really be seeing him.

Uncomfortable, Light shifted and asked the first question that came into his mind. "How old is the oldest kid here?"

"Seventeen. Since you officially graduate at eighteen."

"What's he ranked?"

"Like, third from last."

"How did that happen? If he's so much older, shouldn't he be smarter?"

"It doesn't work like that. Everyone takes the same classes for their first few years here, no matter what age they come in at. So someday you could have a class with a fifteen-year-old when you're only six, or something. Like, we're in Intro to Anatomy. There are... I think it's 25... Anatomy courses. That's how they can just be a week long each. I've been here for four years, so I'm almost done with my other general classes, so I'm gonna have a crapload of anatomy in the next year. That's how they arranged it for me, but the order is different for lots of people."

They were so far away from his original question by this point. "C..."

C shook his head to clear it. "Right. Um. Age. Doesn't matter because your ranks are just the average of your tests every Friday."

"How many students are here?"

He gave Light a funny look. "Twenty-six. Alphabet, remember, _K_? You sure you did well on that test?"

Light ignored that. Wammy had told him that when they'd first met, and he was furious that he had forgotten for a moment. "What happens after you finish all your general classes?"

"You specialize based on whatever you're good at."

Not even bothering to change his clothes, Light pulled back the covers of the unfamiliar bed and climbed in. They were wonderful and he immediately felt less overloaded. They were like a hug, which, he supposed, was a very nice thing for an orphanage.

"Hey," he said to C as he started to doze off in the comforter's warm embrace. "So, your roommate graduated?"

"Yeah."

"Was he 'K' as well?"

"No, he was J."

"When did he go?"

"A year ago. I've been on my lonesome for a while."

"But... how does that work?"

"All the other boys had a roommate and the next J was a girl. You're required to have one until you're ten, and obviously I couldn't have a girl roommate, but everyone else was older and they wanted their own rooms so I was just odd man out. It was fine."

"Mr. Wammy said you were _asking_ for a roommate, but you're _required_ to have one because you're only nine."

"I tried to get someone to trade in but it didn't work out."

"Why would you _want_ a roommate?"

"I don't like to be alone," C replied simply, looking away.

Ah, there were people who were like that, weren't there. It was something Light appreciated in theory, but not something he would ever personally understand. When he was alone, he didn't have to pretend to care about the things that most people cared about. Sure, he liked company occasionally, but if _he_ ruled the world... well, there would be fewer people in it.

C successfully made him uncomfortable more than any person he had met so far. Casting about in his mind for a subject, he came up with: "What happened to the previous K? Did he grow up?"

C didn't respond right away. "She was murdered a few weeks ago," he said finally. "On her fourteenth birthday, she snuck out of the House to meet a date, and he raped and killed her."

Light didn't know what to say to that, so he just peeked up at C, trying to figure out the correct response. He pasted on his best 'sincere' tone. "Sorry."

He saw C shrug. "I didn't really know her. She had only been here about a year."

"Oh..." Light said quietly, his eyes closing again to block out the light that did no good for his headache. "Well... still. Sorry."

C smiled. "Thanks," he said gently.

Relieved that he had said the right thing and very pleased with himself, Light smirked smugly into his pillow.

He heard a small click as C turned on what must have been a book light (must have been, because it added a smaller amount of light to the room) and then another, deeper click as he turned off the lamp, which was on the small bedside table between the boys' beds. The room became darker through Light's eyelids and, although he was sure his level of exhaustion would have allowed him to sleep anyway, the almost-darkness was infinitely more pleasant, and Light fell almost instantly, soundly asleep.

* * *

Light was, once again, woken up by a knock on his door.

He groaned and rolled out of bed, hoping this wasn't going to become routine, and, seeing that C had not awoken, stumbled to the door, flailing at the knob until the heavy wood swung open, revealing... of all people... _L_.

Light rubbed his eyes, willing himself to be more awake. Skipping the pleasantries, he demanded, "L, why are you here at three o'clock in the morning?"

"I could not sleep and suspected that you, too, would be awake."

"I'm not," Light snapped.

L just smirked at him, clearly delighted with himself. "Obviously, you _are_."

Light stared at him for a moment. The silence of the old house- aside from the occasional creak and the wind outside the windows, the start of a snowstorm since it was the beginning of February- pressed in on them. "You're really weird," Light said finally.

L thought about this for a moment, not seeming in the least bit offended. "I have been told this before," he replied, nodding. "It is probably true that I do not subscribe to what most people would consider 'normal.'"

Light closed his eyes and leaned on his doorframe. "All right. Fine. What do you want?"

"I wish to go on an adventure," he said seriously.

"You... what?"

"I wish to go on an adventure," L repeated, enunciating.

"I _heard_ you," Light growled. "I just don't understand why you want to go on an adventure at three in the morning, with me, when we have class tomorrow."

"Class attendance isn't compulsory," L replied cheerfully, grabbing Light's wrist and attempting to physically drag him from the room.

Light snatched his arm away. "I don't skip class."

L cocked his head. "I saw you. You did not take notes. You finished your class work in the same time as me. You took your Aptitude Test today, and if I may ask the time you received...?"

"An hour and fifty-three minutes," Light said, his lips curling up in anticipation of L's reaction.

To his disappointment, L simply nodded. "That is the time I got, as well. More evidence for my theory- you will not suffer from skipping a day of class."

"What if I _want_ to go to class?" Light protested.

"Then go. This adventure will not take more than a few hours at most, and I require your presence."

_"Why_?"

L pulled at his lip with his thumb. "Because I wish for us to be friends."

At that, Light actually laughed and took a step back into his room. "Right. I totally believe you."

"...I sense that K is being rather sarcastic."

"I am," Light agreed. "Because that's not how you make _friends_, L. What _you're_ doing is staking out the competition. You're scared because I might actually be as smart as you- maybe smarter- and if I go on this adventure with you... for all I know you might be a psychopath and lead me to a secluded area so that you can kill me."

"Your English is excellent, K, but you have not completely separated yourself from your accent. What is your country of origin?"

Light blinked at him. "I just accused you of conspiring to murder me."

"Correct. And I just complimented the language with which you expressed that sentiment."

"...Doesn't that _bother_ you?" Light demanded, exasperated.

L examined the ceiling. Light glanced at it, but there was nothing interesting about it. "Not particularly, no, as it is untrue. I do not wish you to come to harm. And I still wish to know from whence you originate."

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk about it."

L shrugged. "We aren't, but I am L. Where are you from?"

_But I am L_? And Light thought _he _was arrogant. Nevertheless, after a moment of glaring at him, Light said, "...Japan." Then, "Where are _you_ from?"

"Japan? Then I apologize, for I have been addressing you with much too much familiarity, K-_kun_."

"Um... okay?" Light's headache hadn't gone away from earlier, and this infuriating child was making it worse. "What... what's _wrong_ with you?"

"Many things, K-kun. And in relation to your question from a moment ago, I believe you already know where I am from, from the language in which **I** addressed me."

"Hungary?"

"Correct."

"You don't look Hungarian."

"And _you_ do not look particularly Japanese, K-kun."

...Fair point.

"You're not going to leave, are you." It wasn't really a question.

"No, K-kun. I'm afraid you are required to accompany me on this adventure."

Resigned, Light found his shoes with his foot and toed them on. He ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine, I'm ready. What's this adventure?"

L gave Light a small, unnatural grin. "Excellent, K-kun. I'm delighted that you have consented. Our adventure begins with breaking into the kitchen."

* * *

L kept them running around the establishment, first the kitchen to grab a copious amount of cake, then to various bathrooms- at which L just shook his head and proceeded to another, only to shake his head _again_- then the laundry rooms which were enormous and from which he pinched a small box of detergent. After he had dragged Light all over the laundry rooms, he dug around in the janitor's closet for a while, then finally ended them at the library, where he sent Light searching for a book about 1972, specifically.

Soon the sun was rising, and L looked up at it as if surprised. He turned his large eyes to Light.

"This adventure seems to have taken longer than I anticipated, K-kun. I will return you to your room at this time."

Light, relieved and exhausted, followed L back to his room. When his hand was on the doorknob, he froze.

"It would be wise," L's monotonous voice came from behind him, "not to trust people as easily and unwarrantedly as you do at this time."

Light's blood went cold. Had L... did he seriously...

"I hope you enjoy attending class while sleep-deprived."

Light gaped at him, hand still on the doorknob, as L shambled away.

He- _Light Yagami_- had just been played.


	7. Igloos

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: ****And, yes, both 'C' and 'I' are important for the plot. I don't put in OCs for no reason. **

**Also, this is a repost of this chapter.**

* * *

Furious, Light stormed to his room, slamming the door open. C came shooting out of bed, nearly falling out in his haste to get to his feet. "What happened?" he asked frantically, stumbling forward.

"L's a jerk, is what happened!"

C's face crinkled up and he plopped back down on his bed. "Yeah?" he said at monotone. "What else is new?"

"He tricked me!"

"Welcome to our _lives_."

Light stared, appalled. So this was _normal_? This was something he did _all the time_?

Light hated him.

Eyes narrowing, he turned on his heel and slunk out of the room. He would show L. He would go to class, study until he couldn't possibly study any more, and beat him, sleep deprivation or no. Take away the one thing that made L special, that made the teachers put up with his 'quirks.'

And then, when he was ranked first? He would do it better than L ever did. After all, he was Light Yagami. He was sweet, polite, adorable, and _not_ socially crippled. He didn't sit with his entire body on his chair and he certainly didn't bring food to class. He would _make_ everyone love him- and, more importantly, make everyone in this entire building forget about L.

He wore a mask every day anyway, right?

* * *

Exhausted- because no matter how brilliant he was, he was only five years old, and staying up all night and trying to function the next day is no easy feat when you're five - Light dragged himself to class.

In Anatomy, he sat down in his usual spot, glaring at the door, ready for L to come in. He would sit right next to him and pretend that absolutely nothing was wrong. That nothing was different, L hadn't totally screwed him over, and they were best friends. In fact, he would publicly be _so_ polite and indifferent to L that no one would ever suspect that he already hated him with a passion. He would successfully avoid blowing his credibility, for when he started to... well... make insinuations.

L, however, didn't show up to class that Wednesday, and Light's most immediately plan was foiled. He was probably skipping class. But to do what? Somehow, Light was sure it wasn't to sleep, if the bags under L's eyes were anything to go by. What kind of five-year-old had huge bags under his eyes? It was absurd.

When the professor walked in, **A** actually looked a little bit frantic. He kept glancing at the door, shifting, adjusting his notebook, torn about whether to imitate L and leave, or to stay and do what he _knew_ he had to do to have a shot at the rank he wanted.

In the end, practicality won out, and he stayed, looking kind of twitchy the whole time.

Light noticed that **I **wasn't there either. Was the class really only at half attendance?

The professor didn't seem to care, and immediately started them on the path of blood flow through the body. This time, Light took notes- if he was going to take on the first ranked in the school of geniuses, he was gonna have to work his butt off.

And if that meant taking notes? Bring it on.

When the professor dismissed them, **A** turned to Light. "Hey. You're using the notebook I gave you. Cool." He smiled.

Light wasn't immediately sure what to say to that, so he nodded. "Yeah. Decided not to take a chance."

"So I assume that means you intend to study?"

Light stood up and **A **followed, collecting his notebooks and brushing them all into his relatively large backpack. "Of course," Light said.

"Want to study with me?"

Was it possible... that Light was in the process of making a friend who _wasn't_ extremely strange or potentially homicidal? Because, if so, that would be highly awesome. Very highly awesome.

"Sure," Light said, trying to play it cool.

"Cool. Library?"

"Right now?"

"Why not?"

Shrugging, Light followed him to the library that L had dragged him to last night.

Dumping his stuff at a table, **A** sat down across from Light and eyed him. "All right. Ask me anything we went over today."

Light didn't open his notes, nodding. "Temperature of blood."

"37 degrees Celsius."

"No."

"What?"

"That's wrong."

"Then what is it?"

"38 degrees Celsius."

"...Are you sure?"

"Positive," Light replied, dead serious.

Frowning, **A** checked his notes. His frown deepened. "Oh, um, you're right. Okay. Now I'll ask you something." He perused his notes for a question. "About how many times thicker than water is blood?"

"Five." He didn't even wait to be told he was correct, because, quite simply, he knew he was. "What percent of your body weight is your blood?"

"Um... point eight," **A** answered after a moment.

"Right."

Looking for a harder question this time, the older boy grinned. "Okay, this will definitely be on the test. What are the three functions of blood?"

Light answered without thinking. "Transport, regulation, and protection."

"More."

"Transport- Carry oxygen and nutrients, carry waste to the kidneys, carry carbon dioxide to the lungs, carry hormones. Regulation- Remove heat from active areas like skeletal muscles, regulate pH. Protection- Prevent fluid loss by forming clots, protect from microorganisms that cause disease."

**A** blinked at him. "How old are you again?"

"Five?"

He chuckled. "You have a good memory."

"So I've been told."

"Do you remember the stuff from yesterday and the day before?"

"Yes."

"Prove it."

Light easily recited anything he could think of off the top of his head that they had been taught in the last week.

**A** just shook his head. "So, we're gonna study here every day, okay?"

"Why do you want to be L?" Light blurted out in response.

**A** raised an eyebrow at the sudden outburst. "Who would want to be L?" he asked, sounding a little appalled.

"_You_ do. You watch him all the time. You write down everything he does."

"Because he's first. I don't want to be _him_, I just want his rank. And I think he must have a secret. If I write down everything he does for long enough, I might figure it out. Doesn't mean I want to _be_ him."

"Oh. Because..."

"Because he's a dick?" **A** flinched. "Sorry, kid."

Light figured he should know what that word meant, but it must have been English slang because he didn't. However, it didn't take a genius, which he was, to figure out that it wasn't something a person _wanted_ to be.

"Well, he _is_," Light replied smoothly, successfully covering up the fact that he had never heard the word 'dick' before.

"You know, I'm ranked second here, but I'm so far behind him that it's almost ridiculous?"

"Really?"

"Yes. I've never gotten higher on a test than him. Ever. Sometimes it's only by a percent or two, but those percents add up after a while."

"But you seem really smart," Light argued half-heartedly. Because, yeah, **A** seemed smart, but he didn't seem as smart as L. He didn't give off the same kind of vibe. **A** was someone you could actually have a casual interaction with. He actually had social skills, and possibly even empathy. Things that L had traded away a long time ago.

"I am," **A** replied seriously. "Anywhere else, I'd be the best, no question. But L's at the next level." He frowned. "But if I study hard enough, I might be able to surpass him one day. That's my goal: be ranked first at Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children." He nodded sharply, his eyebrows remaining creased. "I'll do it."

Light was waiting for him to add 'believe it!' but, to his relief, he didn't.

The older boy shook his head to clear it, and his brow, shoulders, and face relaxed. He smiled. "Time for Sociology."

* * *

It had apparently snowed while Light and L were on their 'adventure,' and now, as he headed to lunch, the high-noon sun was reflecting spectacularly off the untouched snow outside the huge windows of the cafeteria, and the buffet tables were overflowing with food that Light would have put on the menu if he'd had a say, and the moment was perfect. He sat down with **A** and some girl, a little older than **A**, named W. He noticed and then proceeded to ignore L, alone at a table and eating only cake, as C dragged over his other friends to join them.

Everyone Light knew (and liked) at Wammy's House was now at one table, the food was good, L was at a tolerable distance, and it was stunningly beautiful outside.

Content, Light conversationally said to the table as a whole, "Half of the people in my first class didn't show up."

"Oh?" W said. "Who?"

"**I** and L," **A** supplied. "That's probably going to happen a lot, K."

"What?"

"L skips a lot," C explained. "And **I**... well, it's snowing out."

"Oh, right, the igloos."

**A **smacked C on the arm. "You told him?"

C shrugged. "He asked."

"Dude!" **A** exclaimed, grinning that same grin that he always seemed to grin, as long as L wasn't in the immediate vicinity. "We've gotta show him."

C jumped to his feet, scooping up his bag of Cheerios, and grabbed Light's wrist. "Come on! Let's go get our coats!"

Light pulled his arm back but stood up as well.

C hurried them to their room, where they bundled up. Although he didn't try to physically grab him this time, C next dragged Light to the front entrance of Wammy's, popping a few Cheerios, and pushing the great doors open. **A** appeared behind them with a textbook. Was he seriously going to try to study in the _snow_?

It was extremely cold out, but **A** and C didn't seem to notice, instead running straight to a spot that they both seemed to know, stomping all over the previously pristine snow. As they turned around a corner of the building, the snow was suddenly no longer pristine.

In the middle of the side yard of Wammy's House, the snow was suddenly trampled and missing in several places, tufts of dead grass peeking through. It looked like someone had removed the snow, and then it had kept snowing.

Then Light noticed- and scolded himself for not noticing immediately- a giant, perfect igloo. One set of footprints leading in, none coming out.

C and **A** marched right up to it, and **A** leaned in, handing in the textbook.

"Danke!" Light heard cried from the igloo.

He finally caught up with **A** and C. "**I**?"

Ducking his head, he peered into the structure. It was large enough for the little boy and some blankets, some textbooks, the tools he had used to create the igloo, and some food, piled precisely in particular areas.

"Good igloo this year," **A** said approvingly. "How many more melts and freezes are you going to need?"

**I** answered, but Light didn't know the language. He was already opening the textbook, which Light now saw was a Greek language book.

"Nice," **A** replied. "Well, **I**, it's cold to the rest of us, so we're going back inside."

The little boy nodded, already absorbed in Greek, and didn't even seem to notice as they left.

Once they were out of earshot, Light demanded, "What the _heck_ was that?"

"That was **I**- codename Igloo- in his truest of forms," **A** laughed. "Whenever there's enough snow- and actually somehow he manages with what technically _isn't_ enough snow- he gets out there and builds an igloo and won't come out."

"No matter what," C added. "He'd starve to death in there if someone didn't bring him food."

"Why?"

"Why does C keep disgustingly cramming Cheerios into his face?" **A** asked pointedly. C glared at him, hand halfway to his Cheerio bag. "Because it's what they do."

"He doesn't even go to class? And Roger and everybody just _let_ him be out there?"

"Trust me," **A** said seriously. "You don't want to try to drag him out of it. And besides. That's when he learns the new languages."

They were back inside, now, and Light noticed with a jolt that it was almost time for his next class. He excused himself, tossed his winter gear at C to put back for him (C huffed but complied), and dashed to Math class.


	8. Family Dinner

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or The Epic of Gilgamesh, although I love both with a passion that is frightening to passersby. XD**

**A/N: The iPod Addict has disappeared, as of a while ago. Luckily, the bit she started me off with was enough to allow me to write out a summary for the rest of this story. As for her as a person, though, please send her good thoughts and prayers, and I hope very much that she is well and just busy with a happy, fun, and excellent real-life situation and that nothing is terribly wrong.**

* * *

Light woke up that night, in the middle of the night, _again_, and for a moment he seriously considered murdering whatever woke him up. He hadn't seen L all day, but he was, of course, still pissed, and if this was somehow L's doing again, his revenge would have to be just _that _much more intense. Sleep, apparently, didn't play a part in his new life.

Creeping upright silently to have the element of surprise on L, Light snuck to the door. He turned the doorknob silently, then swung it open, preparing his glare...

That landed on nothing.

The sound occurred again, and this time he realized that it had come from behind him, in C's direction.

_"What was that sound?"_

_"Most of the kids here get nightmares, K," C answered sleepily. "Nothing to be ashamed of. We've all seen a lot. Go back to sleep."_

He hadn't heard much since that first night, asking that question, but now it was coming from his roommate. He wondered for a moment if he should wake him up, but decided against it. He didn't care that much. Plus, if C really _was_ violent, it might be a bad idea to wake him up in the middle of a nightmare.

Just as he got back into bed, the question was resolved _for_ him, as C shot straight up with a shout.

The older boy stared straight forward for a moment, then turned his gaze to see if he had woken Light. When he saw that Light was staring at him, wide-eyed, he smiled tightly. "Sorry."

"No problem..."

He turned back around and rubbed his face, dragging at the skin with his fingertips. It was silent for a long moment, then, "Damn it."

"What?"

"Red eyes," C mumbled.

_"What?_"

"Not yours. His. I've been dreaming about these eyes for... don't worry about it- go back to sleep."

Sleep deprived, it was not a hard order for Light to follow.

* * *

That Thursday went by quickly. **I-** Igloo, Light remembered his codename to be- was not in their anatomy class, probably still in his igloo, but L showed up this time. Light was so polite to him that for an instant, L actually looked confused. Just a split second, then he covered it up again, but Light saw. Even if **A** couldn't, Light did.

"L, eat lunch with me today?" Light asked cheerfully.

Again, **A** wouldn't have seen it, but Light noticed the slight narrowing of L's eyes and the tiniest quirk of one side of his lips. "Certainly, K-kun."

After anatomy, Light studied with **A** in the library again. The older boy did better this time, but he wasn't a match for Light.

After Sociology, which went by without anything worthy of mention, Light sat with L at lunch and was sickeningly nice to him. He knew perfectly well that L could see straight through it, but it wasn't for _L's_ benefit that Light was crafting this image, and really, the fact that L wasn't falling for it just succeeded in making the entire situation _that _much more interesting.

Math and Philosophy, then Light was finally back in his room, still not completely recovered from being up all night because of L. C was already in the room, lounging on his bed with his back against the headboard, textbook resting on his legs.

The blond barely looked up when he entered. "Hey," he said vaguely. "Thursday night. Everyone crams. I recommend not making a lot of noise."

Nodding silently to show that he complied, Light broke out his own textbooks and his notes (it was still weird to him, actually having notes to look at) and dived in.

A few hours later, Light's brain was starting to protest the constant barrage of reviewing things he had already memorized. He was sure the test would actually require him to _apply_ the knowledge, but until then, all he could really do was memorize... which gets old, fast, especially when he had already memorized and understood it the moment it left the teacher's mouth.

Turning his attention to the little bookshelf in their room, Light went to browse the titles there for the first time, craning his neck so he could read the spines.

They were mostly in English, nothing in Japanese, not that he expected there to be. A dictionary. A thesaurus. Quite a few classics, including a tattered English translation of _Don Quixote_ and a significantly less-tattered copy of _Dante's Inferno_. Closing his eyes, Light reached for a book at random, drawing out _The Epic of Gilgamesh_. Satisfied with the reading material chance had provided him with, he sat back down on his bed and started to read it.

* * *

"Hey. K."

Light was three-quarters of the way through the story when C's voice rudely interrupted.

"What?" Light replied, doing his best not to snap.

"Dinner. It's almost seven."

Inwardly rolling his eyes, Light said, "You interrupted me to tell me that? I'll come down when I finish this."

"You can't. It's Thursday."

Light sighed. "Right." Time for his first-ever Thursday night "family dinner," as he had heard people sarcastically refer to it. He was reluctant to put his book down, but he did, quickly glancing at the number of the page he had left off at and committing it to memory.

"You can bring that with you if you want. No one cares if you read during the dinner, as long as it's not a textbook. No studying for a whole hour. It's Mr. Wammy's way of keeping us sane."

Light took the book with him to the cafeteria.

Where there had been multiple small tables before, there was now only one long, thin, rectangular table. Light found the girls from a few days ago and smiled at them, sitting down across from where they clustered. C raised an eyebrow, smirked, and took a seat with his own friends elsewhere.

"Hi!" Light said cheerfully, trying (and succeeding overwhelmingly) to sound cute and less intelligent than he was. Had to win them over from L. He couldn't allow there to be a single person in this building- except for L himself- who hated him.

They fawned over him again, and it was really hard for Light to keep reminding himself that these apparently idiotic, shallow girls were geniuses like everyone else here.

_Women._

When he felt that he had charmed them enough for the moment, he turned his attention to whoever had just sat down next to him.

He was much older, probably seventeen, possibly the kid C had told him about who was old but low-ranked.

When he realized that he didn't know Light, the older boy casually said, "Hey."

"Hi," Light replied, suddenly feeling his age for the first time since coming here. He couldn't help but compare the difference in their... physical structures. This kid was so much taller. And like... denser. And he smelled really good, unlike most people Light's age who tended to smell like Spaghetti O's, even when they hadn't eaten any. Go figure.

This guy was so much older, he _knew_ so much more, and yet, Light realized, if the ranks were to be believed and they really _had_ found a way to measure intelligence versus knowledge, he, Light, was smarter than this person. Well, assuming he didn't end up ranked below this guy. Which he was certain he wouldn't.

Looking up at him, however, it was hard to believe.

"You must be K. I'm H. Nice to meet you."

H crossed one unimaginably powerful arm over his body, without turning, very cool, and extended his hand to shake. Light took it, his own hand immediately lost in the comparatively enormous palm. "Nice to meet you, too," he replied.

"Your English is really good," H noted.

"Thanks."

"Better than my... I'm gonna say you're Japanese. Better than my Japanese, I bet."

Light smiled. "That depends on how fluent you are in Japanese."

H laughed, and somehow he was able to make a laugh sound manful without even trying. "I wouldn't be able to say _that_ in Japanese. Oh, hey."

He turned away and greeted someone who now stood on the other side of him, a girl about his age. Light couldn't hear what they were saying, but he saw them smiling, genuinely, and then H was wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into the seat next to him. She kissed his smile through her own.

Light had never seen anyone besides his parents kiss (it was Japan and he was five, after all), and even that had been rare, in front of him, at least. He didn't want to stare, so he focused on his silverware, wishing he had chopsticks because he wasn't entirely used to this stuff yet. Looking morosely at his fork, he opened up his book to where he had left off.

_'...Twelve long days he was deathly sick, he lay in his bed in agony, unable to rest, and every day he grew worse. At last he sat up and called out to Gilgamesh: "Have you abandoned me now, dear friend? You told me that you would come to help me when I was afraid. But I cannot see you, you have not come to fight off this danger. Yet weren't we to remain forever inseparable, you and I?"_

_When he heard the death rattle, Gilgamesh moaned like a dove. His face grew dark. "Beloved, wait, don't leave me. Dearest of men, don't die, don't let them take you from me."_

_All through the long night, Gilgamesh wept for his dead fri-'_

Light became aware of someone reading over his shoulder. Could he not simply read in peace? And sleep through the night? He looked up and was met with _hated_, bottomless, black eyes, which still stared at the pages in his hands.

"_The Epic of Gilgamesh_," L noted monotonously. "That is a good story. Did you know, K-kun, that it is over 4,000 years old, and that it was originally written in cuneiform on clay tablets?"

"No," Light replied curtly before he could force himself to be polite.

"What do you think of it?" L asked, unperturbed.

Light tried to keep his answer short to get this boy away from him. But L sat down. Sadly, Light couldn't be as openly hostile as he would have liked to be, because if he made it obvious that he hated L, no one would take his accusations (that he would broach in a few years) seriously. So he said, "I like the idea of Enkidu and Gilgamesh being equal opposites." Which was true.

"What else do you think?"

"I'm not done with it," Light said shortly.

"Regardless, I am sure that you have formed an opinion of the parts you have read so far."

"I think Gilgamesh is an idiot, Enkidu is remarkably forgiving, and the strength of their admittedly ambiguous relationship is impressive."

L nodded slightly, but said nothing about it. What he did say was, "Oh- green beans. I do not care for them. Please pass them."

Food was being passed around, family-style, and Light now understood why everyone called it "family dinner."

Light took the steaming bowl and dished some out, then passed it on to H. Looking around, Light saw that people were passing everything.

L was apparently able to read minds, and it pissed Light off even as he tried to remain neutral because that was yet another thing he was going to have to surpass about L. "Wammy tries to replicate 'real life' as much as possible in this place. Thus, every Thursday night, we sit together like a family and pass the food around."

Light nodded shortly, clamped his mouth shut, and didn't say another word for the rest of dinner.


	9. Challenge

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: A note about the timeline. In canon, Light's birthday is February 28. His death day is January 28. In this fic, for reasons that are too long to explain, his birthday is January 28. Need that for the timeline to work out.**

**Also, I misspoke earlier in the fic. I had... I think it was C... say that test scores are posted weekly, with ranks being posted on the last day of every month. What I **_**should**_** have said is that ranks are posted every Saturday, after the calculation of the tests on Friday. Please pardon me.**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D**

* * *

Light went to bed early that night, after finishing _The Epic of Gilgamesh_. When C saw him getting changed and pulling back the covers, he said, voice skeptical, "Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're really going to bed?"

Light looked at what he was doing. He was in his pajamas and getting into his bed. He wasn't holding a book. "...Obviously?"

C rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, you're going to bed this early? It's not even midnight."

Light glanced at the clock. "Right. So?"

"_Tests_ are tomorrow."

"I know. I already studied."

C blinked and shook his head, mumbling something about, _'It's possible to _finish_ studying?'_

Light was too tired to care why this was apparently such a big deal to the older boy, so he simply got into bed and, once again appreciating that C was nice enough to turn off the main light and operate with his book light, fell asleep.

* * *

The alarm clock screamed him awake in the morning. He almost cheered- nothing had disrupted his sleep! An entire night, uninterrupted, of _sleep_! It was a reason to celebrate... not that he had any actual way _to_ celebrate. C wasn't there. Of course, Light didn't really care- maybe that would count as the celebration!

Cheerful, Light headed down to breakfast.

It took him a minute or two to notice that no one else was there. _No_ one. Out of 26 students and however many staff, it was only him?

Unnerved, he quickly ate his food, wondering if someone had failed to tell him something that he was supposed to know. Ten minutes later, there was still no one there. All the times he had been to the dining area before, during meal times at least, he had never seen it completely uninhabited.

_Very_ uncomfortable now, Light jogged back to his room, dressed quickly, grabbed all his books. He could see Igloo's igloo out one of the windows he passed, and there still were no footprints leading out of it. So _Igloo_, at least, was still in his igloo. But then, Light didn't exactly want to model his actions after some strange, igloo-dwelling four-year-old.

Increasingly worried, Light picked up his pace until he was actively sprinting, heading for Anatomy, in case, maybe, tests started earlier than normal classes. But wouldn't one think that C would have mentioned that? Or was it one of those things where it was such a part of his life that it didn't occur to him to explain it?

Once in front of his classroom, Light slowed down. He took a deep breath, made himself be calm. He opened the door, and relief washed over him.

**A** was there, studying furiously, but L wasn't. L wouldn't miss the tests. So they hadn't started yet.

He crept in, sitting down next to **A**, daring to interrupt his very-intense focus for a moment.

"Sorry, **A**, but where is everyone?" he whispered. Although he wasn't sure why he was whispering.

"Everyone goes to class early on test days to cram," the older boy grunted back. It was clear that no more questions would be answered, and Light shut up.

L eventually drifted in, hands shoved deep into jean pockets, only a few minutes before the professor, who didn't seem to mind that Igloo wasn't- and wouldn't- be joining them. Everyone was apparently used to it.

The professor nodded to the class as a whole, then passed out the test.

* * *

Again, Light and L finished within seconds of each other. When he finished, Light shot L a smirk that may or may not have been returned, depending on whether or not Light imagined the faint wisp of a curl to L's lips. They were free to leave once they were done, so they ditched **A** there and Light, not knowing what to do with his free time, went back to his room to review unnecessarily _again _until the next test, which went much the same way. He relished the time alone.

No one was at lunch that day, or dinner. A little concerned that he had been forgotten, Light made up a plate of food and brought it out to Igloo, who was happy to see him and greeted him in Japanese, but had already been given food by one of the staff.

Light returned to his room to find C passed out, dead asleep, on his bed, and it was only eight. He wasn't even under the covers or on the bed properly. He looked like he had just barely made it back in time to lose consciousness.

The tests weren't _that _hard, in Light's opinion, but he was smart enough to know that he was smart. He tried not to let this be an indication of his shot at ranking first. Didn't want to get his hopes up.

Looking at C and shaking his head, Light assumed that that was the state of most of the students here. If it was true that everyone had gone all night without sleeping and all day without eating, it wasn't inconceivable that he was one of the few conscious students in the building.

Somewhat out of something neighbors with pity, mostly because he didn't want to wake C up and have to interact with him, Light snuck out of the room to the library. He killed time there until it was a decent time to go to bed.

* * *

He woke up to his roommate shaking him. "Wake up!"

The urgency in his voice roused him quickly. "What?"

"Ranks!" C burst out, "And, K, you've _gotta_ see this!"

Light smothered the smile that threatened to spread across his face. This was his chance to see if his plan to destroy L was even possible. He shrugged C's hand off his shoulder and jumped out of bed, still in his pajamas, and raced down the halls behind the blond.

There was a piece of paper posted where Light had a week ago been informed there would be, and most of the students, **A** through Z excluding **I**, were clustered around it. Staring.

When Light approached, they all turned their wide eyes to him. He heard whispers of _'it won't last'_ and '_I can't believe it_' and _'he's gonna be so pissed' _and _'good job, kid!' as_ he got closer and closer to the unassuming piece of paper, placed up on a corkboard with a simple yellow thumbtack. The other students moved out of his way, footsteps creaking on the old wood floors, parting to make a path for him. Classic.

He saw L, standing next to the paper, hands deep in his pockets, staring at him with piercing black eyes, waiting for him.

And then Light looked at the paper.

First.

'K,' Light, was first.

Yes. _Yes_. He could do it. He was better than L, and when L realized that he needed to study and attend class to keep up with him, he and Light would probably end up about equal. Then it would _really_ hurt him, because, knowing they were equal, Light would _still _take it all away from L. Light already knew how to study. Knew how to take notes. Slept and ate normally. _Had_ a personality. To be taken down by someone like that? Someone exactly as smart as you, but so much better as a person? When you can see right through them and _know_ that they're _not_ a good person?

With this rank, Light's entire plan fell into place, and the little freak was going _down_.

Inside, his smirk was large enough to crack his face apart. Outside, however, he remained polite and unexcited. He turned around to look at L, and then he smiled.

To Light's annoyance, L didn't yell at him. Didn't freak out. Didn't even say a word. Instead, the dark-haired boy simply nodded, accepting his challenge in front of the entire student body.

He nodded, then turned and slouched away.

Light, too, turned and walked in the direction from which he had come, C flanking him, beaming.

"My roommate did better on his first week than L," he mused to himself, grinning. "_No one,_ since he got here, has been first but him.K, do you know what this _means_?"

"That L is going to hate my guts," Light said cheerfully.

"Yes. _And_ that you'll be taking the special class tonight."

"What?"

"The three top ranked students every week- and until today I was usually in the top three- get to take a special class on that Saturday night. I mean, it fluctuates as ranks shift a little, but it's usually L, **A**, and me. Now it's L, **A**, and you!"

Light frowned. This was not part of the plan. "What is the class?"

"Basically, you'll help solve a case. Some are practice, but some are real."

"A _case_?"

"Like a detective. K-" C stopped him, facing him. "That's one of the major goals of this place. That's why deductive reasoning was so prevalent on the Aptitude Test. They want to develop the skills we have, yeah, and give genius orphans an education that will allow us to be the best at something, BUT- Mr. Wammy is also looking for a detective."

"A detective," Light echoed.

"A student from here, trained here, raised here. Neutral. That's why they wipe everything away from you. You're just K. You're not... whatever your name was, from Japan, son of whomever. You're K. Raceless, genderless for the most part, creedless, ageless, brilliant. The only bias you'll have is against crime, which is what put you here. Perfect detective."

"So now that I'm first, I get to take this class."

"Yes. And the cases will build your reputation in the outside world for when you leave, and the ones that are just practice, well, you'll _learn_ how to _be_ in the outside world when you leave. The greatest detective. Ever. Mr. Wammy has got tons of governments already agreeing on it. That whatever student they eventually find, once he builds his reputation... he'll be able to mobilize any army or police force in any country in the world. Never fail a case. Not take on any particular case unless he chooses it... that's what we're looking at here, K. And _that_ is why everyone wants to be in the top three."

It was so ideal that Light almost didn't know how to handle it. Now, there would be a long-term benefit to taking L down, besides personal satisfaction. _He _would get to be this great detective. To... basically rule the world. As an added bonus, it would infuriate L.

_'Well,'_ Light thought. _'Didn't see _that_ coming.'_


	10. Free Computers

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Why is writing such a volatile, emotional process? Is it that way for any of you? Like, I have to storm around the room, ranting about how I'll never be able to write again, and then slam down in my chair and demand to myself that I type something. Then usually I'll get discouraged and then jump up again and stomp around for a while longer. I log on and off of my computer and then back on to complain to Miharu is Haruka's Love Child. Then I get up in the middle of the night to frantically scrawl an idea down.**

**My roommate is surprisingly tolerant of all this. XD**

* * *

Light once again found himself in the library. It was the weekend, so there were only a few students there, and anyone who _was_ there wasn't in any kind of a craze- no classes until Monday. He spotted a kid with a small, relaxed smile on his face, reading a book about the history of calculus. Only here would that be something that a child did in his free time.

Light put down his book about the sun (he had finally had time to look up why it was yellow, as he'd wondered on his first day here). He didn't really feel like reading, actually; that wasn't why he had come and was, in fact, incidental. An impulse. No, the library didn't symbolize knowledge or education to him.

To him, it was all about L.

L and that book he'd sent him on a wild goose chase for. _That's _what this place made Light think of. L, who smirked and thought he was superior and had actually tricked him- _tricked _Light- into running around the building all night.

It wasn't even about the fact that he'd had to drag his butt through a long day on no sleep. While that had sucked, it wasn't enough, generally speaking, to make Light so determined to exact _this_ level of revenge. Normally, that would be a week of shunning and maybe a nasty rumor.

It was the principle of the thing. The fact that he had tricked him. The fact that he had just _assumed_... rightly so... that he _could_ trick him. That L had analyzed him as if he were... well... one of the people _Light_ analyzed... and come to some conclusion. _Any_ conclusion, really; the actual conclusion wasn't relevant. As if Light were _readable_. _Common_. And then to _conclude_ that Light was possibly as brilliant as L, and immediately step in to sabotage him?

L was a jerk. And he needed to be taken down a peg.

And, really, wasn't this a service? Someone who tried to take down their competition in sneaky ways like that, like L did... was that really the kind of person the world needed? If Light simply _allowed_ L to keep being ranked first and keep solving cases in the night class... then _L_ would end up as the great detective that everyone would have so much faith in. This dishonest, slouchy, strange, anti-social, tricky little boy with a cake complex was _not_ good enough to be the Great Detective. The world deserved more than that. Someone had to clean it up.

And, naturally, Light was the man for the job.

After all, he was perfect for it. _L_ wasn't, and-

"K?"

It was Mr. Wammy, with a pleasant smile on his face beneath his graying moustache. Seemingly used to people being lost in thought (not surprising), he patiently waited while Light re-orientated himself to his surroundings, finally fixing his gaze on the old man.

"Hello, Mr. Wammy," Light said politely.

"Good afternoon. I came to congratulate you on ranking first on your first week here."

"Thank you, Mr. Wammy."

"I have some other matters to discuss with you as well. Would you please accompany me to my office?"

The man had a skill for making something that was clearly an order into a polite request, even a question. Light nodded and followed him down the by-now familiar hallways.

They arrived at his office in due time, Wammy striding in and sinking into his chair behind his desk. Light sat on one of the two plush, red chairs that faced it. His feet didn't touch the wood-paneled floor and his head only got about halfway up the back of the chair. He imagined that it was so disproportionately large compared to most of the students here in order to intimidate a kid who was here because he had done something wrong.

He glanced around quickly, taking in the tall bookshelves behind the desk, the grandfather clock to the left, the computer on his desk. Light could see the back of a picture frame, but it was clearly not intended for _him_ to see because it was facing completely in the direction of Wammy.

It was a nice enough room and, since Light knew he couldn't be in trouble (he didn't think it was strictly against the rules to wander around at night, so his "adventure" with L probably wouldn't have gotten him here) he wasn't stressing and could appreciate the elderly, classy, _rich_, British feel it had.

"So," Mr. Wammy said as he shuffled some papers around on his fairly-organized-looking desk. "A few orders of business. However, I'd like to start with your AT results."

"Yes?" Light tried not to sound as excited as he suddenly was. He wasn't sure if he succeeded or not.

"You did... remarkably well," the old man said seriously. "In fact, your 'score,' as it were, is better than any score we've ever had... with one exception."

It had to be L. But he couldn't say anything, because if he did he was sure he'd growl or something and that would betray to Wammy his negative feelings towards L, and that wouldn't do.

"And, K, that was the score you _equaled_."

Yessssss.

"You got all the deductive reasoning questions correct. Roger and I have planned out your curriculum based on the knowledge portion of your test, and I think you will be pleased with your classes when you get to them. As for the aptitude portion... well, I am sure you have your own understanding of just how well you did on this test. Your speed was incredible. All in all, K, you should be very pleased.

Light nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Second order of business," Wammy said, smiling and withdrawing a different piece of paper, plus a pen. "If I may ask, what is your favorite food and beverage? I have your allergy information, but do you have any voluntary eating restrictions?"

"Potato chips," Light said, instantly craving some. "I like them. I can't think of any drinks. And no, I'm not a vegan or anything, if that's what you mean."

Wammy nodded, making some notes. Light was vaguely hopeful that there would be potato chips at the meals in the near future. "Excellent. Thank you. Now, about your clothing. As we discussed on the day we met, you are allowed to where what you'd like. As long as it's appropriate, of course. I can put in an order for the type of clothing you prefer, as well as any other special requests you may have. Is there something you have been missing? Cost is not a factor."

After explaining the kind of clothes he wanted, Light stopped and thought. _Was_ there something he'd been missing? Besides potato chips, he couldn't think of anything.

But, hey, this was quite the offer.

"Can I have a computer?"

"Certainly. Anything else come to mind?"

Light's brain fizzled out for a moment. Apparently cost _really _wasn't a factor. "That should do it," he said weakly.

"Very well. Did C tell you about the night class?"

Light nodded.

"Excellent. Then off with you." He smiled. "Enjoy your weekend. The class starts at eight PM. It meets in... well, I will have L come pick you up."

"No!" Light burst out. "I mean... could **A** take me, instead?"

Wammy titled his head but didn't question him. "I'll send him to fetch you at your room a little before eight."

"Thank you, Mr. Wammy."

"Have a nice day, K."

Light climbed out of the huge chair and exited the office, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Light had been meaning to visit Sayu... but between a general feeling of apathy towards the idea and a lack of free time, it hadn't happened yet. Now, he had no excuse. He was really close and it was physically on his way back. So, instead of going back to the library, Light went to the wing that C had showed him before.

He found Sayu with an attendant, playing contentedly with blocks. He almost deemed this sufficient until he realized that he needed face time with her.

The attendant smiled up at him when he approached them. "K. We were beginning to wonder if you ever planned to visit," she said, not unkindly.

Light cleared his throat and put on his best 'weak' expression and voice. "The first week was really hard," he said quietly.

It was too easy. The woman melted almost visibly, nodding understandingly. "It's a tough school. But I'm sure you'll do great, K. Would you like to take Sayu around?"

"_Can_ I?" Light asked, trying to sound excited. All this acting was exhausting. "That's not against the rules?"

"Of course not. As long as you're on Wammy's House grounds."

Giving his best shot at fake enthusiasm, Light picked Sayu up, saying something to her that was so benign that he instantly forgot it. Well, not really _forgot_ it. But still, it was benign.

Plastering on a 'proud big brother' grin, Light went around Wammy's House and showed Sayu off to as many students and staff as he could. He made sure they caught him looking adoringly at her, holding her protectively, made sure he got the girls to 'aww,' and then, as soon as he could, he returned her to the wing where they kept the normal siblings of genius children.

That accomplished, Light returned to the library to pick up his book about the sun and bring it to his room to idly read, awaiting **A.**

* * *

**A **arrived at Light's room at 7:50. When Light opened the door, **A**, for a moment didn't look up.

"**A**..." Light said. This wasn't part of the plan. **A** couldn't hate him. More, he didn't _want_ **A** to hate him, because **A **was the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. Which was kind of pathetic, when Light thought about it, but to be fair he had only been around for five years.

The older boy finally looked up. After a beat, he shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, I saw this coming when we studied. Guess it just means I have to work even harder, right?" He didn't sound as confident this time as he had the last time. He forced a smile that didn't even require Light's observational skills to identify as fake.

Light sighed a little. "I studied with you, **A**. You're brilliant."

"Sure," **A** agreed. "But I'm nothing compared to L. Or you."

They were quiet for a moment until **A** suddenly shook his head, hard, sending his dark brown hair flying out in every direction. "Let's go to the class, yeah?"


	11. Altruism

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: I play Eye of the Tiger practically on a loop at school to keep myself motivated wading through the mounds of homework. My roommate is tolerant of this as well. XD**

**After several comments about bolding 'A's name being annoying, I have decided to change it. However, if it is used in a way that would be otherwise extremely grammatically confusing, I'll still bold it. :)**

**Also, just thought I would mention that this is going to be a very long fanfic.**

* * *

When they arrived, A seemed to loosen up a bit- a very _little _bit- as if being in the room reminded him that, although he was now third, he was still in the top three. Light was tempted to tell him not to bother- that he was never going to surpass L, let alone Light himself, but restrained. That probably wouldn't be socially appropriate, and Light may have been heartless but he wasn't stupid. Don't alienate the one he would soon mold into his "best friend" figure.

So, instead of crushing A's dreams, Light took a minute to casually glance around the room.

It had no windows, but that was okay because it was dark outside anyway, and _would_ be any time they were in this room. Besides, Light could already tell that whatever casework went on here was very much a secret.

Along the wall to Light's left were three buff-looking computers. Along the right, a long table with three chairs. The one closest to the door held A. There was also a chair against the back wall, immediately across from where Light stood now.

Simple, efficient, obvious.

Wammy and L weren't there yet, and so, enjoying how concrete-sequential it all was, Light cautiously took a seat next to A, who flinched.

"Um, hey. Yeah. You're... first... so you sit _there_." The older boy gestured with his head at the seat closest to the back wall. Furthest away from him.

Light frowned. Because yeah, subtle. Sighing, he stood up pointedly. "You know, if you didn't want to sit next to me you could have just said so." He shook his head, making his face 'disgusted with a trace of hurt,' and sat down at what was apparently _his_ chair.

A caved in on himself a bit. "No, K, really."

Light studied him for a moment, then decided he believed him, but didn't get a chance to say anything more because L slumped into the room at that moment and every other thought was forced out of Light's brain.

Arrogant bastard L.

Light gave him the distinct hairy eyeball as the other boy slouched over to the middle table, nodding at A, who looked down. L sat on his chair and then drew his legs up to himself in the way that Light _hated_ so much, but... and he wouldn't have noticed this if he didn't spend so much time glaring at the boy... he was sitting up just a little bit straighter.

Interesting.

A was glancing at the two of them through his hair, frowning to himself, but didn't say a word.

Finally, Wammy walked into the room, and the tension in the air visibly lessened.

"Good evening, boys," he said pleasantly as he strode into the room with his usual air of dignity. "As this weekend we have a student who has never participated in this class before, I will give the explanation that both A and L have heard a dozen times before. You are both free to exercise your selective attention. As for you, K, the premise of this class is very simple."

He made eye contact with Light and smiled. Was this man perpetually calm?

"This class is about Justice," he said heavily. "Teaching you how to identify it, understand it, and enact it. How to defend it, when necessary." He nodded. "You and every other student in this place have ended up here because some kind of injustice has been done to you. This is your chance to make that right, to prevent it from happening to someone else and, if such a thing is possible, to perhaps take revenge for your _own_ loss."

More than he was listening to the supposedly inspirational speech, Light was observing Wammy. Why did he do this? He could tell this meant something to the old man, but why? What had happened to him in his life that would make him start a place like this... and more specifically, a _class_ like this? Who had been taken from him? His _own _parents?

Light realized that he had zoned out of the last few moments and quickly forced his attention back to where it was supposed to be.

"-cases, you will. Some of these will be real cases. Not all, but treat all of them as if they _are_. At the same time, do not agonize over any particular case. That is counterproductive and will only hinder your ability to succeed on _other_ cases. Any questions?"

Light shook his head.

"Then let's begin."

Moving closer to the table where the boys sat, Wammy passed three sheets of paper to each boy. He then took a seat in the only unoccupied chair.

Light glanced down at his paper. Tons of words in fine print. He would have begun to read them, but Wammy was talking again.

"Case study," he said. "'Carlton.' Young man, age twenty-two, lover killed in prison. Found dead at a crime scene, covered in blood that was not his own, as well as some of his own."

Light noticed that L was skimming the pages already and hurriedly did the same, splitting his attention between Wammy and what he was reading.

Certain words stuck out to him. _Murder_, for one. _Killed in prison._ _Kidnapping. Torture_. _Cuts. Warehouse. Chains. Two eyewitnesses- a prison guard and his wife._

"This one has been solved. Explain what happened."

Sounding almost bored, L immediately did.

"Carlton's lover was killed in prison. He should have been under watch by a guard, of course. Either the guard slacked off or, as is more likely, allowed it to happen. The lover must have been in prison for something that hit home with the guard, personal enough that he would look away while other prisoners killed his charge. Carlton probably wasn't completely stable- he was dating someone who was bad enough to be murdered in prison. He hears about the lover's death, blames it on the guard, kidnaps the guard's wife, and brings her to some warehouse. He calls out the guard, who comes for his wife. He wants to die, at this point, but he wants the guard to feel his pain first. He chains up the guard and tortures the wife, makes him watch. The guard breaks free and kills Carlton, collects his wife, and gets out of there."

Wammy didn't even look surprised. "Correct."

A was staring at L so intensely that it made Light's teeth itch.

"Case study two," the old man continued. He passed out another sheet of paper. This one was much shorter, but that really only meant that there was less background information.

Light now knew to begin reading immediately, and when Watari posed the question, Light jumped in before L even had a chance.

"In the dining room. The carpet was damp in various places, which means that someone walked through it from the kitchen, which was flooded. Looking at the layout of the house you gave us, the kitchen is right next to the dining room. The murderer might have thought to put the gun in her hand and make sure her fingerprints were on it, but he didn't take into consideration the way she would land. Her hair was also damp, but only with water and not blood, which means he stepped on it on his way out, and they traced the particles on his boots back to him."

Light knew from Wammy's carefully-neutral face that he was dead on. Doing his best not to smirk and only partially succeeding, Light leaned back in his chair.

L was staring. A was staring.

Light liked when people were staring at him.

It was a good feeling.

* * *

By the time he could leave, Light's brain felt like it was going to literally split apart. However, he had been victorious. L had gotten to answer less than half of the cases- A hadn't gotten to say a single word the entire night.

When Mr. Wammy dismissed them with a nod, A was the first one out the door, taking off at what could have been considered a run. Light tried to feel guilty about that, but all he could manage was annoyance.

"Well done, K-kun."

With a mental sigh, Light turned around to face L. Instead of responding, he simply glared.

"L," he finally said, curtly.

"I have never had a legitimate challenge before. I expect that it will be most entertaining. If this continues, you may force me to put forth effort."

Arrogant jerk!

Seething, Light cocked his head. "We wouldn't want _that_."

"No," L agreed seriously. "Fortunately, the likelihood of you being able to maintain your-if you will excuse me- _streak of good luck..._ is only twelve percent."

If Light hadn't already hated him, he would have hated him now. Conveniently, Light already hated him.

A lot.

So hating him more at this point was unnecessary. And potentially redundant, actually.

Spinning on his heel, Light marched back to his room and, careful not to wake C who was taking advantage of the weekend to catch up on sleep, closed the door behind him.

* * *

That Monday, Light met A in the library at the same time as before.

The older boy was there and he had been reading fervently until he perceived Light's approach. Still, he pretended to read, even managing to make his eyes scan the lines of the page. But Light could tell. A wasn't hard to read and inside he was panicking.

Light approached and stood there for a long time. A didn't look up, didn't acknowledge him, apparently fascinated by the math textbook.

When it was clear that Light would have to break any silences that he wanted broken, he said, "I don't want you to feel bad about this."

"I don't," A lied.

"A. I can tell. I know you work really hard and I know the ranks matter to you, but I have to try too, you know?"

"Yeah," he replied blankly.

It was silent for a moment.

"It's not the ranks so much," A finally said.

Light sat down across from him, putting his elbows on the table and resting on them. If this was gonna be a heart-to-heart where Light would have to pretend he _feels_ the same way everyone else feels, then Light wanted to at least be comfortable for it.

He took a mental deep breath and formed his face into attentive sympathy.

"What _is_ it?" he asked in his best impression of 'gently.'

"My parents killed themselves," he said flatly. "That's why I'm here. And they did it because they were being blackmailed. People were threatening them. I was too little to understand why, so I guess I'll never know. What I _do_ know is, I lost my parents. Because of someone. And that _someone_ has never been brought to justice."

Light nodded solemnly.

A continued, "I don't want L to get it. L doesn't care about Justice. He's just bored. He doesn't really _care_." He looked up at Light. "But you're different than L," he said after a moment of examining him. "I knew it when I first met you. _You_ care."

Apparently A was a bad judge of character. Not a good trait for a detective.

"And if I can't do it... then I just want it to be you. And not _L_."

_Interesting_, Light thought. And if he had cared, he also would have thought about how sad it was that the only one of the three of them who _didn't _have a shot at being first, at getting the most attention and renown through the class, at becoming the greatest defender of Justice to have ever lived... was the only one who cared about Justice at all.


	12. Trapdoors

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: As many of you have pointed out, yes, Light is very cold in this fanfic. Give him a little time to warm up; he WILL warm up, since he is not **_**actually **_**a sociopath. This fic will span many years. Also, in response to yet more comments about the last bit of the previous chapter, where I called Light "not Justice" just like L: I'm willing to argue that he does what he does because, simply, he is bored (in canon) and here that he does it because he wants to take down L.**

**Also, keep in mind nature and nurture. A lot of things about his canon personality aren't going to apply now, because he simply didn't grow up in the same environment. :) **

**The story is moving slowly. Like, glacially. But it needs to, at least in the beginning, to establish some stuff. Again, it'll be really... really long, so it'll even out. :D**

**Finally, it WILL be romance. Eventually, and pretty intensely in a couple of different formations. But they're really young now and while things will start to happen when they're still too young, it won't be until they're **_**less **_**too young. XD It's a few more years before B is introduced, as well.**

* * *

The next Saturday, Light ranked first again, and at the class that night he and L were neck-and-neck, practically climbing over each other to solve each case first. As they left that night, Light saw A swipe at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, but didn't say anything.

The week went well, and Light was starting to feel at home, and, more, to feel confident that he would always be able to remain a bit ahead of L.

But the Saturday after that, Light wasn't.

* * *

Light stared at the ranks. He stared at them, unbelieving, until he felt a presence behind him. Only then did he tear his eyes away from the sheet of paper, and his gaze met with L's.

"I studied," L said by way of an explanation. "Granted, not much. But still, you have put me in a position that forces my hand, K-kun, and for that I suppose you deserve _some _acknowledgement."

There were people around, so as much as he wanted to, Light couldn't tear L limb from limb. It was sad.

Instead, he politely said, "Then I'll just have to try a little harder." He grinned charmingly, and he knew that everyone in the room fell for it.

Everyone but L.

The other boy smirked, nodded, and then, hands in his pockets, slouched away.

* * *

It didn't take Light much added effort to get his spot back the next week. Nor did it take _L_ much of an increase in effort to reclaim it the week after that. In the night classes, Mr. Wammy couldn't give them cases quickly enough. He'd hardly get his words out before either Light or L were jumping to answer, at which point he'd hurriedly present the next one, and the next one, and the next...

There was only so long this could continue.

And Light and L were both determined to find out exactly _how_ long.

* * *

Light woke up, groaned, and rolled over in bed. He wasn't feeling it today. He had been up too late studying the night before. It wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence, but that didn't make it less aggravating.

"C?" Light mumbled, cracking open an eye.

The older boy was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, trying to motivate himself to get up, too.

"What."

"Let's skip class."

C sighed and flopped back on his bed. "Cool. Sounds great."

They laid there for a minute in silence, both fully aware that they would do no such thing.

"The rumor is that L hasn't skipped class since the first time you were first," C said finally.

Light made some kind of wordless sound. "I don't care. We should skip class. You know, people are capable of remembering more when they've had adequate sleep. So it makes sense to sleep in today."

"Shut up. You have total recall. You don't need a better memory."

"If I had total recall," Light objected sleepily, "then I would remember your name. Who are you again?" C threw his pillow vaguely in Light's direction. It missed its target and hit Light's back instead of his face. Sentiment received, Light stole the pillow and tucked it under himself. C wasn't getting it back.

C ignored him, pulling his covers up over his head.

After a moment, he said, "You know? I don't remember my name either?"

Light made a little sound of complaint and forced himself to sit up, running a hand through his hair. He tossed the pillow back at C- there was his good deed for the day. Or for the month. "You're stupid," he accused his roommate, tossing his legs over the side of his bed. That would do for the moment in the 'getting up' department.

"No, jerk, I mean my _real_ name."

"Oh?" Light's interest was actually piqued. "How... do you forget your name?"

"Been here a while."

"But it's your _name_."

"So what? What does a name matter?"

"I never thought of that."

With a heave, C was suddenly out of bed and on his feet. "My codename? The one Wammy gave me? It's Calvin. Sometimes I forget that's not my _real_ name."

"He gave me 'Kira.'"

C snorted. "Sounds like a girl's name."

"Worse. In Japan, it's how we pronounce the English word 'killer.'"

C stared at him for a beat, then went to get some clothes. As he changed, he said, "That's a little sick."

"Tell me about it."

"It's pretty cool though. Has a nice sound."

"I hate it."

"He didn't let you pick a different one?"

Light didn't say anything.

"Right. I get it. Yeah, Wammy tends to spring that decision on you at kind of a bad time. But it can't be helped. No one can know your real name. If you end up being picked as the detective, you have to be completely anonymous."

Light finally managed to pry himself out of bed.

"But still," he added as he followed C to breakfast a few minutes later. "Killer?"

* * *

Light took a seat at what had already become his 'usual table' with the people who had already become his 'friends.' He was pleased that he had managed to win over so many people- L still sat alone, when he came to meals at all.

The table consisted of C's three friends- R, Y, and G- and W, the girl who always sat next to A. Light pointedly sat down on A's other side every day. A was attractive and popular, and it needed to be obvious to everyone that they were friends. Then, of course, there was C. That was six out of the twenty-four students he had to befriend (everyone but L and himself). Having only been here for a little over a month, and already twenty-five percent of the way there... Light was pleased.

Also, it was just nice to have intelligent, interesting people to sit with. While none of them were up to L's level (Light almost got shivers when L talked, knowing that he, Light, was the _only_ one who understood him), but A was interesting enough and C didn't seem to mind when Light spoke over his head.

The others, Light could take or leave.

Either way, Light enjoyed breakfast every morning with these people and, excited as he was to go to class, was a bit sad to leave them.

As usual, after their last class, Light met A in the library. The older boy had been studying like a madman- occasionally even skipping meals to accomplish it- and it was a little bit sad that it wasn't going to make the slightest bit of difference. But how could Light _tell_ A that? Easy; he couldn't. So he didn't.

"So, the facts that cause a change in demand are... what."

"Cost of the good or service."

"No. That's the one thing that will _never_ cause a change in demand. Price changes the _amount_ demanded."

"Oh, right. Um... consumer income..."

"Prices of related goods such as substitutes and complements, tastes, expectations and the number of consumers."

A looked down at his notebook.

"I'm asking you things, now. I'm tired."

"Okay."

He flipped to a different section of his notebook. "Philosophy. Explain the ontological argument for the existence of God."

"Things that exist are superior to things that do not exist. God is the superior being. Therefore, god must exist."

"Explain why it's invalid."

"It's circular reasoning. God is perfect, so God must exist, because if he did _not_ exist he would not be perfect, therefore he exists. The argument affirms the consequent and..."

* * *

Brains fried for the moment (or at least A's brain was), the boys began the trek back to their rooms.

But in the hallway this time, something was different.

Wammy wasn't in his office, but the door was open.

Just ajar, actually, and the lights were off... he must have left it open by mistake. Maybe he thought he had closed it.

The opportunity was simply too good to pass up.

One glance at A was enough to tell Light that he was just as curious, and without a word they dropped into stealth mode, creeping to the door, creeping inside. They closed the door behind them, and then they were mostly safe.

The room looked scarier in the dark, without the calming force in it that was Mr. Wammy. Heavy curtains were drawn over the windows, blocking out most of the potential moonlight that would have helped them to navigate more elegantly. It was very dark- even the computer was shut down, the nearly-perpetual glow from the monitor temporarily black.

They stood there for a while, just squinting around, trying to see, until A finally broke the silence.

"You know," he whispered, "people say Wammy's House has a bunch of trap doors and secret passageways."

Light walked quietly over to Mr. Wammy's desk. "Why would it? What's the point?"

"It's a pretty old building. Plus, a lot of stuff happens here. Sometimes kids die or disappear. There are a lot of secrets. I mean, even our _names_ are secret."

"You have a point."

Careful not to make noise, Light opened each of Wammy's desk drawers, finding nothing interesting. Disappointed, Light's eyes skimmed over the desktop...

"A, come look at this."

A did so. When he saw what Light was pointing at, his face scrunched up.

"Why does Wammy have a picture of _Roger_ on his desk?" A scoffed. "Who would want to look at _him_ all the time? Besides, don't they see each other around the House all the time?"

Light shrugged, interest already attracted to a gap in the floorboards that he hadn't noticed the last time he was here. It was under the big, red chair he had been sitting on during the meeting that had landed Light with a really nice computer.

"So, about secret passageways?" he said blankly, pointing. "I think the rumors are true."


	13. Near Miss

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: As a romance writer, I'm fairly impressed with myself that I've managed to go this long without just doing a time skip to when they're old enough. However, that would compromise the integrity of the structure of the story. As a side note, last chapter was mostly transition stuff.**

**This one is short because it's up SO soon after chapter 12. :)**

**SPRING BREAK!**

* * *

"Huh?"

"Trapdoor," Light explained briefly, already on hands and knees and looking for a way to open it, fingers running along the crack in the old wood floor. He found no handle or groove. "There must be a trigger somewhere else. Maybe it's a book."

"Wammy is a genius inventor. I'm pretty sure he could come up with something more creative than what's been done in movies a hundred times," A replied without venom, coming to stand next to him.

He was right, but Light wouldn't be swayed. "You search. I'll start pulling out books."

There were enough that he hadn't examined them all by the time A had a brainblast and simply went to the grandfather clock behind the desk. Opening its case, he pulled the pendulum all the way to one side. Nothing.

All the way to the other side, however, released a mechanism that allowed the trap door on the floor to pop up a bit

Easy.

"This is why I should be ranked first," A said solemnly.

"Shut up and open the trapdoor."

Grinning, A worked his fingers into the little slot and pulled. The heavy-looking wood came away easily- again, probably a result of being designed by a brilliant inventor for whom counterbalancing was child's play- to reveal a dark but sterile staircase, leading treacherously down.

Knowing that A would definitely follow, Light took the lead. The moment they stepped in, some kind of motion sensor illuminated the entire area.

"That's fairly awesome," A said matter-of-factly.

Light nodded, and they hurried down the stairs, anxious to see what lay in what appeared to be the basement of Wammy's House.

They didn't find bodies or cages or torture devices or, sadly, any scandalous secrets of any kind.

What they _did_ find, however, was arguably better.

The room was surprisingly large and spacious, filled with half a dozen metal shelving units, all of which contained boxes upon boxes (upon boxes upon boxes) of carefully-labeled, miscellaneous objects. There were more bookcases, but Light could tell from where he stood that these were all manuals and science-related. The place had an air of clean efficiency... except for the table in the center that had to be a workbench, which was very large and piled high with every imaginable piece of scientific equipment. There were ancient mortar and pestles, brand-new chemistry glassware... it was a scientific dream come true in the midst of barely-ordered chaos. There was another desk nearby that the boys could not discern a purpose to, covered with stacks of books about- Light raised an eyebrow- insects.

Light and A gawked, footsteps tapping on the clean linoleum as they _carefully_ walked amongst Wammy's laboratory, and as they explored they called out their most interesting finds.

"K. It's a whole box of bolts. How many different sizes of bolts do you _need_?"

"This toolkit must have belonged to Moses. It's falling apart. But it's so _sharp. _Ow!"

"Paintbrushes!"

"It's another picture of Roger! He's in front of the House. And Wammy's with him in this one!"

"He could kill everyone in the House with a _drop_ of this acid in the water."

Then they heard footsteps that were significantly heavier than those of a five- or nine-year-old.

Then a voice.

"Clearly I did not hide my workshop sufficiently."

Light and A whipped around, the older boy actually startled enough to end up on his butt on the cold linoleum. "I swear we weren't going to take anything," he said faintly.

"I have no question of that," the old man replied.

Light blinked. He sounded... calm. Like, as calm as he _usually_ was.

He couldn't believe it. They break into his office, then _purposely_ look for a way into a hidden trapdoor, and then they wander around his lab for half an hour, and there were going to be no consequences? "You're not mad?"

Wammy smiled. "I am training you to be detectives, am I not?" He shrugged. "I have few secrets, boys, and those I care to keep _will_ be kept."

Now that it was clear that death by Wammy was not imminent, Light was burning with questions. As quick as Light could fire them, Wammy could send them back.

"What is all of this? Your laboratory?

Mr. Wammy nodded. "I am an inventor."

"What do you invent?"

"Anything. Chemical solutions, technology, improvements on existing objects..."

"Are you well-known?"

"One could say that."

"Is that how you got the money for the House?"

"It is."

And for the question that Light had wanted for weeks to ask: "Why did you make the House?"

"I grew up in an orphanage as well," he said simply. "They did not have facilities for children of my... aptitude... and I realized that there must be other people who are in the same situation. Thus, an orphanage of geniuses." He sounded like he had answered this question before.

"Why are you trying to make detectives?"

"Like you, something had to send me to the orphanage."

Light was done, and he looked at A.

A looked back. Then, feeling like he should also say something, he burst out, "Why do you have so many pictures of Roger?"

For once, Wammy paused. "Because he is the most important person to me."

"Quillsh?" A familiar voice came from the direction of the stairs.

"Down here, Roger."

Moments later, a familiar face appeared. He smiled at Wammy, then noticed A and Light.

"Boys! What are you doing down here?"

A shrunk back from Roger, but Light just stared right at him, defiant.

"It's alright," Wammy interjected. "I am all but asking for this to happen, what with the kind of training they receive."

Roger immediately deferred, all venom gone.

Looking back at Light and A, Wammy added, "While you are not in any kind of trouble, I ask that you not spread the word about this laboratory. As you may have noticed, there are more than a few dangerous articles here."

They nodded frantically.

"Very good. Now, unless you have any more questions, please return to your rooms. It is getting late."

Consenting, Light and A hurried out.

Where they separated to go to their rooms, they hesitated.

_"That_ went better than it should have," A said quietly, scratching his neck.

"No kidding."


	14. Real Cases

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Alright, I've backed myself into a corner. Thus, I have removed the previous chapter 14 and am taking this in a different direction, although it will still end up where I wanted it originally. I think I told a lot of you that it would be a VERY long time before BB showed up. Not so much with this different direction. XD**

**This chapter exists with large amounts of help from BBTRekhyt.**

* * *

It was good, Light thought, that B's graduation ceremony was taking place on the day of his (Light's) tenth birthday, because it successfully distracted the other students from trying to celebrate his birthday again.

That had happened the first year he'd been at Wammy's and it had _not_ been pretty. Someone had found out his birth date and decided that it would be a great idea to pop into his window to surprise him, and the death of his parents was still a bit too recent on his mind for people to be coming through windows like the murders had that night. Light had flipped his shit, and the student had avoided him out of embarrassment until he graduated.

But now it had been five years, and students were clapping when B accepted the blank piece of paper that represented a diploma for Wammy students. Some said it was symbolic of how they, as human beings, didn't exist- faceless, nameless- and also how they were supposed to be Justice- a clean, white sheet. Light was skeptical of these people and asserted that it was purely for confidentiality reasons. Can't very well have a diploma that announces a secret school for geniuses. Light wasn't even sure that Wammy's House existed on paper. Maybe _that_ was the intended meaning of the blank sheet.

Light had never been particularly close to B and was largely indifferent that he was graduating, and to the fact that they'd soon, probably, have a new B to take his place, since every other letter was currently occupied. As such, his applause was mostly just polite, and he didn't mind leaning over to C, at his side, and talking during the supposedly bittersweet parting ceremony.

"You know what, C?" he asked quietly.

"What."

"I came to Wammy's House close to my fifth birthday. Today I'm ten."

"Happy birthday," C whispered back, not taking his eyes off the proceedings.

"No, I mean, I've been here for five years, now. I realized something last night- I don't even remember what my parents look like."

"I think most of us here would say that."

"Sure, but is that normal? I mean, is that the normal progression for _other_ people?" Other people being non-geniuses, of course. "Or is it because Roger and Wammy take all our stuff away when we get here? Even our names?"

"I don't know," C answered, but Light could tell he wasn't extremely interested by the way his head was tilted. They'd lived together for five years- one learned how to read one's roommate over time. "They make it like your past never happened. That's really good for some of the kids here. I heard that W was a prostitute."

Despite Light's generally vast knowledge of other people's business, this was not a rumor he had heard before. "Seriously?"

"That's what I heard. People tell me stuff- you know that."

"Probably because they think you're too weird to have anyone to tell their secrets to."

C grinned, and Light, since he was thinking about when he had first arrived at Wammy's, remembered that he'd originally found that smile to be 'off,' somehow, but now he just couldn't see it, although he was sure it was the same smile. In five years, you can apparently get used to anything.

* * *

It was a Thursday, and B's graduation did not excuse them from the family dinner.

When they had all gathered, Mr. Wammy cleared his throat for attention and stood. The chatter immediately stopped. Even O, who usually never brought his face out of whatever book he was reading (right now it was Go Ask Alice), stopped, put his book down, and looked up. The old man stood.

"There has been an incident."

Light glanced at A, whose relatively light skin had gone paler. Taking a quick headcount, Light discovered that all twenty-five of the children currently at Wammy's House were there. So if not a death, what was this incident? He looked at L, cringing at the very sight of him, who was frowning, crunched up on his chair as usual. L didn't seem to know. If neither of the stars of the House (the two stars being himself and L, of course) knew, then what kind of 'incident' were we talking about, here?

"Two days ago," Wammy said calmly, "at an orphanage about twenty minutes south of here, for those of you who are familiar with our surroundings, there was an intrusion. An older woman broke in with a knife and took the lives of three of the staff members."

He gave that a moment of silence. Rightfully so.

Eventually, he continued. "As she left, she was apprehended and is currently in prison serving three life sentences without chance of parole. She herself is no longer a threat. However, she has created an uncomfortable and dangerous precedent, and Harbor Oaks is not confident about the level of security they can provide. In addition, their building is in need of repairs and they have recently discovered Stachybotrys chartarum in their attic. Needless to say, Harbor Oaks requires assistance that we are in a position to offer." He nodded. "It will require several years to bring their building up to livable standards, and to increase their security. That is why we will be taking in their twenty residents until such a time as they can return to their home."

He gave the students a moment or two to whisper amongst themselves, more than familiar, after so many years, with the correct times to pause in public speaking.

"This should affect your daily lives very little- they will continue to go to their usual school, and as the professor's rooms are being rearranged, they will have a building to themselves, including their own cafeteria. If your paths do cross, however, I expect you to treat them with respect. Finally, the addition of the new children _does _mean that our space is now limited, and it will no longer be an option to have a room of your own at any age, as it was previously. If you are currently in a room on your own, you will shortly be informed of your new arrangements. That is all."

Light and a few other students groaned. As much as Light liked C (most days), he had kind of been looking forward to going solo at some point.

Announcement completed, the old man sat back down and dinner resumed, the conversation abundant with complaints and reluctant acceptance of Wammy's absolute word.

* * *

Light was ranked second that week.

When Mr. Wammy walked into the special night classroom that evening, the first thing he said to L, Light, and A was, "I must confess- I have lied to you."

L chewed on his thumbnail for a moment. "The one responsible for the murders of the staff members of Harbor Oaks has not truly been caught. Correct?"

Wammy, ever unsurprised by L's insight, simply nodded. "He or she remains abroad. The alarming thing is that Harbor Oaks, in truth, has excellent security. Also, there was no sign of an intrusion."

"It was an inside job, then?" L asked monotonously. Nothing in his voice actually indicated that it was a question.

"As far as we can tell, it wasn't any of the students who lived there, nor was it likely to be any of the other staff, although of course these are not impossibilities."

"But if there was no forced entry, it had to be someone who was _let in_," Light said.

"Possibly. We are running forensics on the area and an autopsy is being performed on the bodies to see if we can gather any more clues. I will get these results to you as soon as they are in my hands. I assign this case to the three of you. I can give you no further clues or instructions, as I have none. The police are also working on this case... perhaps you could accept it as a challenge to solve it before they do. This is not an unreasonable goal."

"Working together?" A asked, just a mumble, shoulders drawn close to himself as they always were when he was in this room, nowadays.

"Yes, together," Wammy said firmly. "This is a real case with real lives. I expect you to put aside any personal differences for the greater good. We spend a great deal of time discussing the ideal of justice. Now act upon it."

Assignment given, and, as he said, having no more hints to supply them with, Wammy left them alone.

L was the first one to break the silence. "I do not require assistance on this case. I'm sure I will have it solved by this time tomorrow, at the latest." He snatched the file from where Mr. Wammy had placed it on the long desk. "Good day."

A opened his mouth to protest but Light cut him off. "L, you heard Mr. Wammy." Not that Light truly intended to _actually _set aside personal differences. "We're supposed to work together."

"I did hear him. But I am L," the boy replied, and took his leave in a way similar to their mentor.

* * *

Light stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"K, look! I got a cactus! I named him Christopher! He- what the hell happened to _you_?"

"_L_ happened to me!" Light shouted, wishing he could slam the door again for emphasis. "Why is that attention-hogging_ creep_ in _my_ life?"

C frowned. "Great. Something happen at the class again?"

"We got a case," Light informed him loudly, editing out the parts that made Wammy a liar. "And it's a _real _one, for once, and Wammy told us to work together, and L just _took _the file and walked out of the room!"

"You're surprised by this?" C asked dourly.

"No! Yes! I don't know! I'm just pissed! He's such an _ass_!" Light went to go throw himself down onto his bed to make the springs make noise if he couldn't have the door again, but he froze. "Why is my bed covered in Cheerios, C," he demanded, voice low and dangerous.

C reddened. "I was gonna have it cleaned up by the time you got back, but, well, your class ran short today and-"

"I don't care if you intended to clean it up; I want to know _why my bed is covered in Cheerios_, _C_."

"I... I had nowhere else to eat them..."

"The futon. _Your_ bed? The _floor_?"

"I did all those already. I just wanted to mix it up! I promise it wasn't anything creepy..."

Light let out a very-loud, very-frustrated shriek and whipped around, storming out of the room the way he stormed into it, very pleased that he got to slam the door again.

He _had_ to go find the only human being on this campus who didn't drive him absolutely crazy.

Preferably _before_ he did anything else to his reputation.


	15. Not Really A Mystery

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: This is the most rebellious fanfic that I have ever written. It has fought me every single step of the way, from the moment I got the idea almost two years ago, to the moment I started the draft that has actually seen this website (the original died), to right now. And I'm not convinced it will get any easier. That said, it is of course a labor of love. **

**This chapter exists with a LOT of help from Rekhyt, who apparently doesn't mind me talking at him for hours until I come up with something.**

**German provided by SpeedDemon315. AKA my roommate. XD Who is, conveniently, a German and economics double major. :D**

* * *

"A, do you have any idea how completely obnoxious it is to live with someone who eats Cheerios 24/7?" Light raged, walking straight into the room as was his custom. A's roommate, Q, didn't even jump, significantly older and more than accustomed to Light barging into the room. He turned a page of his textbook.

To Light's surprise, A actually looked up from his flashcards. As close as they'd gotten in the last few years, A almost never had time to do anything but study.

"Did you find Cheerios in your drawer, again?" he asked mildly.

"Nope. On my bed. All _over_ it. Why he was eating Cheerios in my bed, I'll never know. And I honestly think I'd _rather_ never know."

"He doesn't mean anything by it."

Scowling, Light plopped down on A's bed. "Yeah, yeah."

But Light already felt better. A was intense about his studies, obviously, but there was something about his presence that Light had always found comforting. Calming, even. Maybe he liked being around people who tried harder than him but would never be better than him. Or maybe he just liked the guy.

A shot him a big, easy smile and Light's heart flipped.

Right. It wasn't actually a mystery why Light found his presence comforting.

"Oh! K! You know what happened today?" Suddenly the smile was even bigger and Light was sure the oxygen levels in the room had decreased at least a little.

"What?"

"W asked me out!"

And there it was. The main reason Light had never taken any action. Less than age, which wasn't a big deal at Wammy's, less than the affect it would have on his reputation, which was minor, even less than how it would distract him from his competition with L, was the fact that A was completely, painfully straight.

Not that Light was gay, of course. It was just because A was so pretty and amazing. It wasn't guys, it was _this_ guy.

Of course.

"What did you tell her?"

"Of course I said yes! You know how I feel about her." He snorted. "Plus, I'm almost 15 and I've never had a date."

"So," Light said, casting around for something to say, "Where are you guys going to go?"

"Just the cafeteria. I was going to suggest something a little more special, but she pointed out that I almost never leave the library so the cafeteria _is_ pretty special." He laughed, Light's stomach lurched. This was so unfair.

"Sounds great!" Light lied fluently. "When is this? So I can make sure I clear out."

"Tomorrow at dinner."

"Cool."

A moment of silence. Q turned another page, the rustle of paper loud in the quietness of the room and the House.

"Hey, I've gotta go tutor," Light said, suddenly inspired. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Meet me for lunch? We need to hash out what I'll say on my date."

"Okay," Light said, already reaching for the doorknob. "Noon, usual table. See you."

And Light was alone in the hallway.

He was on good enough terms with everyone in the House (everyone but L) that he could literally go to any room right now. But who could he go to? Everyone but A and L were idiots by genius standards, and not close enough to his level that he'd want to hang out with them, especially upset and with the possibility that he could spill his guts— only C and A had any insight into Light's true nature. And of course he didn't really have anyone to tutor at this time of night.

He could wander around the house alone, or he could just go back to his room and C.

Sighing, dragging his feet (metaphorically only, as he never walked with anything less than perfect posture, contrary to L), Light made his way back to his room.

When he quietly opened the door, C jumped to his feet.

"K, I cleaned off your bed," he said immediately, speaking so quickly that Light almost had trouble following. "I'm really, really sorry. I _swear_ it wasn't anything creepy, but I know I shouldn't have done it, anyway. I just don't really like Cheerios anymore but I keep eating them and it helps if I at least sit in a different spot and I'm really, really sorry."

Light sighed. "Whatever. I probably freaked out more than I needed to. Did you get all the crumbs and everything?"

C nodded vigorously.

Without comment, Light moved over to his bed and took a seat on it. He put his chin on his hands and looked up through his bangs at C, looming, fidgeting, eager to please as ever.

Would it be safe to tell him? C clearly considered him a friend, probably his best friend. And Light knew he wouldn't betray him- _Light_ was the one C betrayed people's secrets to. The psychological benefits of getting this off his chest could be worth the uncomfortable 'tender' moments that would probably follow...

"I have feelings for A," Light finally said, "and today W asked him out and he accepted."

C actually stopped fidgeting for a moment. It wasn't a long moment, and he resumed shoveling Cheerios into his mouth moments later, but for a bit he had actually been still.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. Unsure, he sat down next to Light, still a bit away, knowing that Light wasn't big on physical contact. Or emotional contact, for that matter. "How... long have you liked him?"

Light sighed. "A while."

"That sucks. I'm sorry, kid."

When it looked like Light wasn't going to say any more (and he wasn't), C added, "I don't know what else to say. I've never been in love. I've never even been in _like_."

"Avoid it if you can help it. It sucks." He kicked off his shoes and got into bed, dressed.

Light was done with this conversation and C seemed to know it, because he left him alone, then, and eventually Light fell asleep, only moments after realizing that he could have given a long overdue visit to his baby sister.

* * *

"All right, J, how can I help you this week?"

Tutoring, again. Light had, at one time or another, tutored literally every student in the House (not including the normal kids in the next building over) except L.

"Um, I think today we should work on German."

"Das ist gut."

"See, I should know what that means. I have test tomorrow."

Light managed to keep his sigh internal.

* * *

"Mein Schwester war zum Supermarkt und sie hat viele Obst gekaufen. "

"That's great!" Light lied. "You're making really fast progress!" _at using German wildly incorrectly._ "Maybe you can take your shot against L! Well, unless he, you know..."

J was all big eyes and wiggling in excitement, and Light could only think about how A wasn't like that at all. "Unless he what?"

"You know." Light took quick glances around and lowered his voice. "Cheats."

"_What_?"

"You didn't hear it from me."

J nodded frantically, her hair flying out behind her. "Wow, I had no idea. I mean... he's supposed to be so great and justice-y, and he cheats? Someone should tell Wammy."

"No, no," Light said with his most persuasive voice and tilt of the head. "Mr. Wammy would be heartbroken. We can't do that to the old man."

"You're right. You're so nice, K."

Light blushed. Something he had taught himself to do on command.

"Wait!" J suddenly realized. "He cheats and you still beat him sometimes?"

Light shrugged 'modestly.' "Yeah, I guess so."

"Nice _and_ smart. You're a catch, K."

...Oh no. It was happening again.

"Would you like to... maybe... go out with me some time?"

Light was never wrong. Why wasn't Light ever wrong? This was the third time in the last month that he'd been asked out. In fact, it was starting to be said of him that he could shoot girls down so gently that they ended up just liking him _more_. Light knew this because of C. Naturally.

He made his eyes go sad and reached out to her, putting the backs of two fingers on the side of her face, softly.

"J, you know how I feel about you." He took a moment to look at her longingly. "But I just... _can't_."

"Y-you like me?"

Light nodded.

"Then why can't you?"

"I can't let myself get distracted. Becoming a great detective and avenging the death of my parents- of Sayu's parents- means more to me than anything. I can't justify being with you only halfway, with half my mind always in my books when I should be spending time with you. You should be with someone who can give you the attention you deserve."

"I promise not to distract you! I'll even help you study and stuff! That way we can be together without you losing time! And I _know_ you, K. I know how much that all means to you, and I want to be a part of it. I don't need undivided attention..."

Know him? No. She had no idea.

Light looked at her for a long, long time. He opened his mouth, inhaled, stopped, closed it. Then he sighed in a rush and shook his head, hard. "No. I can't. I have to do this, J. Please understand..."

He was pleased to see that tears were welling up in her eyes. "I do. I really do." She stood up, collecting her books in a sloppy rush that made Light a little nauseous. "You're the most amazing boy I've ever met. Call me if you ever change your mind, okay?"

"Without a moment's hesitation."

She nodded a little, smiling at him, and he waited until she was almost at the door before calling out to her.

"J!"

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell anyone about this... no one. Not even S. Okay?"

"But why?"

"Because I want this to be something only you and I know. Our secret. Just between us. I mean... this... is probably the only thing I'll ever have... the only memory... the time I could have had you, and let you walk away..."

"I'll never tell anyone as long as I live," she swore. Without another word, she turned and rushed away, obnoxious hair still flying out behind her.

Putty.


	16. Attempted Teamwork

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Exists with the help of Rekhyt.**

* * *

The plan had been formulating in the back of Light's mind for a few hours, now.

L had taken the case file the day before. Clearly, he hadn't solved it yet, or Light was certain that he would be rubbing it in everyone's (or at least Light's) face. This had to mean that it was a tough case, one that was possibly even too hard for L to solve on his own.

Not that Light would admit this, but if L himself couldn't figure out the murder by himself, it was unlikely that Light would be able to do it alone, either. However, Light had an advantage that was just as legitimate as any advantage L might have— an army of people willing to do whatever he said whenever he said it.

He also needed to physically _get _the case file back.

Light needed A.

The only problem was, A had that stupid date tonight, which would result in a whole hour where A did no studying, which Light suspected would _then_ result in the boy not taking a break for at least the rest of the week. And Light really wanted to get the file away from L as soon as possible.

So, Light would just have to talk A out of his first-ever date, which just happened to be with the girl he hoped he would marry someday, or some nonsense like that.

Obviously, this could pose a challenge, even to someone with Light's charisma. A had been crushing on W for _years_, and Light had studied enough psychology to know that, when you're 15, getting a girl to like you is massively important. Especially if it was one you were crazy about and talked about all the time.

He and A were supposed to be meeting up for lunch momentarily to hash out this very date. Light took a brief moment to compose himself, to run his bubbling plan through his mind, and put on a 'worried, serious' mask. Dodging people in the hallway, smiling at some of them, nodding at others, winking at one, Light made his way to the designated cafeteria table, sliding into a seat next to the older boy.

"A, we have a problem," he said in a low voice, checking over his shoulder.

A frowned, glancing around as well. "What's up?"

"To be honest..." He sighed. "I'm worried about the case."

"L's got it. It sucks that we won't get any recognition for it, but it's more important that it gets solved. You know?"

"That's exactly what I want to talk to you about," Light replied conspiratorially, moving in a little closer to A and lowering his voice even more. "See... I'm not so sure that L _does_ have it."

"Wait, seriously?" Hooked, A put his fork down to give Light his full attention, leaning in as well.

Light was trying not to be distracted by the closeness. Honest, he was. The boy just _smelled _really good, which clearly wasn't Light's fault. Forcing this out of his mind, Light continued in his best worried voice. "Think about it. Why isn't he rubbing it in our faces yet? And have you seen him in the halls or cafeteria since stole the file from us?"

A's eyes were getting wider and wider.

"I think he's locked himself in his room trying to solve it, and I think he's failing."

"It's... that bad?"

"Apparently. We wouldn't know," Light added sarcastically. "But I bet that if we got the file back, between the two of us, _we_ could manage."

"That's what we should do, then!"

Light smirked, but only on the inside. "He's not going to give it up without a fight. You know that."

"So we won't let him know. We'll sneak in!"

"He doesn't sleep. When would we do it?"

A glimmer of cockiness passed across A's face. Light hadn't seen that in a while. "I have just about everything he's ever done written down, remember? Believe me, even L has patterns."

Light blinked. That was convenient.

"So we should do this as soon as possible," the older boy continued. "This is a real case, here, and you're right— L's definitely not going to give up until he personally solves it. You and I together are going to be able to finish it faster. We need to catch this killer."

"You know what... you're right!" Light exclaimed, oozing (false) enthusiasm. "We might be able to pull this off!"

"Yeah!" A got to his feet, shuffling through his pile of books and spirals and producing the notebook in which he had been recording L's moves for as long as Light could remember. "There's a section in the back that has some connections and correlations I've made, probabilities, variants, standards of deviation, that sort of thing. I think I can fairly accurately guess that right now..." his lips turned down a little, looking at his book, "considering the fact that he has a case, the time of day, how long he's had the case..." He looked up. "There's a 94% chance that he'll be in his room for another few hours. _But_..." he flipped a worn, smudged page, "considering how long he has been in his room already, he should sneak into the kitchen for cake by the end of the day."

If Light wasn't, by now, so used to A's borderline stalker behavior towards L (but was it really borderline?), he would probably have been disturbed by this. Luckily, he _was_ used to it, and more than that he didn't really care who was creeping on the guy he hated.

"Then that's when we'll strike."

So for the next few hours, they staked out the library, near a glass wall that overlooked the hallway outside it. There was only one way from L's room to the kitchen, and it was past that window.

It wasn't the most interesting four hours of Light's life, but it wasn't unpleasant. It had been a few years since Light had been able to just sit down with A and have a long conversation that didn't involve study methods or W.

"You know," A said at one point, "I think I'm actually really good at math."

_Well, relatively_, Light thought, but what he said was, "Yeah, I believe that." He did have a reputation for it, after all.

"I still hate it, of course, ever since Dr. Freely. But I'm pretty sure that I'm the top of my calc class right now." He chuckled. "Figures that the only subject I'm great at would be the one I hate."

"That does seem to be how your life—there he is!"

Finally, their efforts were rewarded. Right exactly on time, right when A said he would, L appeared in the hallway, lumbering towards cake.

"Let's move," Light whispered entirely for dramatic effect, and together they hurried to L's room, slipping inside and closing the door quietly behind them.

Despite all his brilliance, somehow it simply hadn't occurred to Light (or A, thank-you-very-much) that L's roommate might actually be there.

Thoroughly unconcerned, the boy didn't even look up. "I assume you're looking for the file? Don't bother. The Revolting One took it with him."

"You might be lying," A pointed out.

"Believe me, I would tell you. He's barely left the room since he got that damn file and I'm this close to killing him."

Light and A stood there awkwardly for a moment. "Oh. Well... damn."

"I won't tell him you were here."

"Okay. Sounds good," A mumbled. Light nodded repeatedly.

Trying to save what little dignity they still had, A and Light crept out. Once they were safely out of range of L's door—they actually even passed him as he headed back, munching on a plate of his favorite confection and leaving a trail of crumbs that would give Roger a hernia— A said, "We should have seen that coming."

"Probably."

"New plan?"

* * *

It was hours and hours later, dark outside and mostly silent inside, and they had yet to think of a better idea. Unfortunately, this was L, and as they _now_ realized, traditional methods weren't going to be enough. It was good that Light was physically incapable of hating L more, or this would have tipped the scale.

The time for A's date with W had come and gone, and, perfectly aware of this, Light had cheerfully failed to point it out. Heads together, leaning over the table in the corner, the boys drafted plan after plan, always rejecting them for one reason or another. Only a few students turning the pages of heavy books and Light and A's quiet discussions disturbed the peace of the nearly-silent library.

Suddenly something else entirely was breaking the silence.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Light and A looked up and were met with a very unhappy female. All things considered, this is one of the most frightening things to be met with.

A's eyes went huge and he whipped around to see the nearest clock. "Oh my— W! I'm so sorry! I lost track of time, I—"

"You stood me up," she pointed out.

"Not on _purpose_, I—"

Light could already tell that she'd been fuming in their intended meeting place for long enough that she wasn't going to listen. "My friends were right. You're _never_ going to be able to get your head out of your books long enough to actually be my boyfriend."

_At least she wasn't yelling_, Light thought. That would be inappropriate in a library.

Evidently, A had not come to the 'she isn't going to listen' conclusion as quickly as Light had, because he was still trying desperately to explain. "No, W, this is different, this is a _case_. For that class, you know?"

"Oh really?" She rolled her eyes. Light wondered absently if that was just a "female" thing. "Those cases are always solved in-class. You told me so yourself."

"This one is special. It's actually real!" he said urgently.

"If it's real, then what's it about?"

"A murder," A supplied immediately.

"Easy enough to solve. Easy enough to _make up_, too."

"No, I swear it's real. It's about..." he faded out.

Light watched him struggle. Could he talk A out of trouble? Probably. But it was interesting to see the boy flounder, fighting with his sense of loyalty to Wammy— because to tell W about the case would be to reveal their mentor as a liar.

"It's confidential," he finally said. "I can't... it's confidential..."

"Sure." The disdain in her voice was unmasked. "Whatever. See you around, A."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving A to gape after her and Light to wonder how A could have feelings for such a bitch.

* * *

They ended up staying in the library for a few more hours, Light still sketching out schemes at his usual pace but A staring blankly at his pages. Hoping to avoid the conversation he knew was pretty much inevitable, Light had so far done his best to not mention W at all.

That being said, he wanted A to think he was a good friend, a shoulder to cry on and then fall madly in love with. Unfortunately, this was exactly what good friends were for, so Light decided not to put it off anymore.

Biting the bullet, he made his voice as gentle as he could and said, "Hey, are you going to be okay?"

A finally looked up at him, the first time in several hours. "I... she was right about me. I'm in here too much."

"This is for an admirable reason, though," Light insisted. "This is _important_."

"It's not that. I'm not saying I should never be working, ever. But, I mean... I'm _always_ studying. I actually just don't ever do anything else. You're my best friend. Can you name a single hobby I have? What was the last thing I did for fun? K, I forgot about a date with a girl I've been crazy about for _three years_. That's not normal. That's just not right."

"But it's _you_. You've always been this way."

"And I hate it," he replied bluntly. "I can't stand the way I am. Remember what we talked about once? Like, years ago? About how I don't want L to get the detective spot because he doesn't care about Justice?"

"Yes?"

"Well, neither do I."

"Yes you do," Light replied dismissively.

"No, I really don't."

"You _must_," Light asserted. "Why else would you study all the time?"

"Because it's the only thing I know to do," A said flatly. "Study 24/7 at the cost of _everything_ else. The girl of my dreams. Having real friends, other than you. And sometimes I think _you_ only like me because I'm not a threat to you but I'm still smart enough to hold a decent conversation."

Light closed the notebook he had been scheming in, giving A a hard look. "The reason you missed your date is because you got distracted by this case," he said (ignoring the last part). "Because it's real and because if we don't bring the killer in, he might hurt more people. You _do_ still care about Justice. And protecting people. You're... _good_, A."

The older boy's reply was totally blank. "Sure." A long, significant pause. "Look, I don't want to work on this anymore tonight. Maybe tomorrow. If you want to keep going, be my guest. We both know you could do this without me, anyway." He stood up stiffly, methodically collecting his books.

"No, I really can't."

"I have to go study," A said curtly, and without another word, he spun around and walked away.


	17. Much Trauma

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: This one has some... content... Just FYI. And new, important stuff!**

**And! With this chapter, I have posted slightly over half a million words to FF. Because I have a life. XD **

**If she reads this, my friend who has over 2 million will be rubbing her superior accomplishment in my face for a week at least. XD**

* * *

It had been an awkward night, as Light had actually found himself a little worried about A. Unused to feeling like this, he had gone to bed as quickly as possible, trying to minimize the amount of time he spent experiencing such an uncomfortable emotion.

He had spent the week trying to come up with strategies to relieve L of the file, but so far none of them had been successful. He'd even had to recruit C a few times and, with much cajoling, A. Once, his plan had required both of them. That time had involved an elaborate scheme which included luring L away with cake, convincing him that part of Wammy's was on fire, and timing it so he would pass both Roger and Wammy in the hallway, twice. Somehow even _that_ one had failed. If Light ever met Murphy, he would probably slap him across the face for inventing such a stupid law.

He had failed over and over again, and he was getting angrier and angrier, and it was again time for the class and he was debating about whether or not to tell Wammy that L had commandeered the file and hoarded it in his room like some kind of hoarder.

Light was rapidly discovering how his similes and grammar got questionable when he was more pissed at L than usual.

Regardless of his ability (or lack thereof) to form a decent sentence, he dragged himself to the class and took his seat. He was second that week, so he took the second spot, sitting down between L, who was all crunched up on his chair, and A, who was trying to make himself as small as possible.

Wammy came brushing into the room in the classy, distant way he did everything. He positioned himself at the front of the room. "Please report your progression on the case. I assume that, between the three of you, it has been solved by now?"

They all— even L— stared straight down at the rather lovely wooden floor.

"I see," the old man said disapprovingly. "Well, what _have_ you found out?"

L perked up. "Two of the victims were husband and wife. Upon further research, I discovered that they are survived by a son, fourteen years old. Having no other family, he was sent to an orphanage across the country."

"I assume there is more to this." Interesting how a statement could sound so much like a threat.

"There is," L continued. "I happened upon some test scores of his which indicate that the boy may have a place among us here."

"...Interesting. I will look into this." He accepted the notes that L handed to him. "It does not, however, count as progress on the case," he added heavily. "Do you have anything else?"

L mumbled something.

"L?"

"No, sir," he said more clearly.

"Have you at least made any strides in that direction?"

"I am finding the case... difficult, sir."

Wammy paused, noticing the grammatical significance of that statement. "_You_ are finding the case difficult?"

"Of course I mean 'we,' sir."

Apparently the old man knew L better than that, though, because he looked at Light and A. "Did he, in fact, mean to include the two of you in that statement?"

"No, Mr. Wammy," Light contributed immediately, trying to keep the glee out of his voice. His inability to get the file back was paying off. It might actually be worth all the wasted hours, just for this moment right here.

A didn't say anything, but Mr. Wammy got the picture.

He turned back to the guilty party. "Shame on you, L," Wammy said seriously. "Real lives are at stake here and you waste time on hubris and arrogance. I expected better from you."

L actually fidgeted. Needless to say, Light was delighted by this.

"Obviously this cannot be allowed to continue. You will work on this case _cooperatively_ from this moment forward. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Wammy."

"The class for tonight is cancelled. The three of you need to _work together_ for the next few hours and maybe make some progress."

Light was just about cackling in his head.

When Wammy was gone, L stood up slowly, drawing himself to his fullest slump. He paused for a moment, looking for something to say. Then, as if he had never stolen it and as if nothing was wrong between the three of them: "Well, let's get to work."

* * *

Even with three geniuses and four hours, it went nowhere.

There was just _something_ about this case— Light didn't even know what— that wasn't right. Some missing piece that, for the life of him (and of A and L, but Light cared less about them), he couldn't place.

Something was just... off.

* * *

It was a rare peaceful moment in one of the Wammy's lounges, everyone else probably studying or sleeping, but Light and C were actually caught up on all their work. As such, they had jointly decided to enjoy this time, C sprawled out on one comfortable lounge chair, Light sitting with his usual perfect posture on another, even though hanging out with other people wasn't usually Light's idea of fun.

Although they had both brought books, it was clear that this was _actually _the perfect time for gossip and that no reading was going to be done.

"I heard that F caught Mr. Wammy giving Roger a kiss."

"No way. What kind of kiss?"

"Well, F said that it was kind of a peck-type thing, but it was definitely on the lips."

"Ew, elderly love."

"It's just a rumor, but at the same time, doesn't that kind of make sense?"

Light hummed to himself. "You know, when I first got here, I saw a picture of Roger on Wammy's desk. When I asked, he said something about Roger being the most important person to him, or something like that."

"Ug, that's so sick."

"Do you really think they might be lo- C? What is it?"

C had suddenly frozen, his eyes glued to a spot above Light's left shoulder.

"C?" It was always creepy when someone stared over your shoulder with an unreadable and very-intense expression, especially after watching a horror movie, which Light had the night before. Against his better judgment. "What are you..." Turning in his seat, Light looked where C was staring, half-expecting a horrifying clown-monster of some kind to be floating behind him.

Instead, his eyes landed on Roger (hopefully he hadn't heard them), who was, while standing in the doorway to the lounge, looking down at a kid Light had never seen before. He was gesturing at the room.

The kid was tallish, probably about C's age. Way, way too thin. Pale as death, with creepy crimson eyes and obviously-dyed hair, probably blond to black, chopped and styled in a way that reminded Light of L. Worst of all, even worse than the fact that he reminded Light of L, was the fact that he was grinning like a madman.

Right at C.

Who was staring back with the most eclectic collection of expressions Light had ever seen on one human being.

Roger noticed that the boy wasn't paying attention to him and looked up to see what was so interesting. "Oh, hello boys. This is B. B, this is C and K. Would you two like to show him around? I'm sure you could give him a much more effective insider's perspective than I could."

Actually, Light had no desire to escort the strange guy anywhere, but C was already nodding wordlessly, his eyes glued.

Roger, glad to be away from children, hurried out of the room before the offer could expire, leaving them alone.

B and C had yet to actually look away from each other, and Light was intrigued. He stared at the new boy, too, trying to see what his roommate found so interesting, but he simply didn't see it. In fact, B came off as a little crazy to him. To be _avoided_, not befriended.

C apparently did not agree, because he stood and walked directly to B.

He held out a hand. "I'm C."

B took it and shook. "B."

Their hands lingered there for a little longer than Light considered strictly normal, but the way they were staring at each other, Light didn't really have any questions. He understood how babies were made, thanks. The birds and the bees and all that. Or, well, the bees and the bees. He actually hadn't thought C went that way, or _any_ way, but he wasn't hiding his blatant fascination now. B wasn't either.

For a moment, it was dead silent.

"I'll show you around," C said suddenly, a little too loudly.

"Yeah, okay."

"Your room will probably be where the old B was before he graduated. Which means your roommate will be R. R's cool."

Not taking his eyes off the newcomer, C led B out of the common room, explaining the rules and procedures as he went.

Light stared after them, smirking. C was fourteen. It was about time he found someone he was interested in, instead of hanging around _him_ all the time. He'd make him dish out all the details that night in their room. Something was bound to happen between those two, and probably in the very near future, judging by how they were looking at each other. There had definitely been lust in there. Something else, too. Light would probably be seeing a lot of B.

While he was genuinely pleased that C now had a romantic interest, he wasn't too sure about this 'B' guy. There was something about him that Light didn't know how to describe, and it was sinister. He suspected that C saw it, too, and either he didn't care or he liked it.

_Really_ liked it. Because, for the first time since they met, C seemed to have completely forgotten that Light existed.

Yes, Light would definitely be seeing more of B.

* * *

Light wasn't exactly prepared, however, for how _much_ more of B he would be seeing. Or, at least, hearing.

He was lying in bed that night, on his side, facing the wall, more than halfway to unconscious when he heard the door to their room slam open.

As a reflex, he almost gave C a sleepy greeting, but he froze when he heard heavy breath and hurried footsteps.

Light had known C for five years, now, and he knew damn well that C never got mad. He got annoyed occasionally, but in those five years Light had never seen him actually _angry_. He certainly sounded angry now. Light lay still for a moment, listening further. Maybe C had snapped or something. It was safer to pretend to be asleep, to get more time to judge the situation and what actions he should take. If C seemed violent, Light fully intended to stay right where he was. C was bigger, older. Light probably couldn't take him in a fight. If he seemed more hurt than angry (maybe B had done something?), then Light would go comfort him. Well, as best he could, with the whole 'not caring that much' thing.

So he lay quietly, trying to piece together the scene that he could hear but not see.

The more he listened, though, the more convinced he was that there was only one thing that could be happening on the other end of the bedroom. There was absolutely nothing else those sounds could mean. C, panting and moaning quietly. A voice Light didn't recognize, making sounds of effort and pleasure. The bed was creaking.

Maybe they were, like, wrestling or something. Or, you know, maybe it was just some mutual jerking off or a nice blow job. It didn't _have_ to be... like... full-out...

Light tried to convince himself of this, but it became impossible when he heard C's breathless, "Shit... _shit_... h-harder... dammit..."

Wildly, Light tried to figure out what the fuck- bad word choice- he was supposed to do now. Was he supposed to leave? Maybe they wouldn't notice; they were clearly preoccupied. No, that was too risky. It would be awkward forever if they knew they'd been caught. If he couldn't do that, Light could bite off his tongue and bleed to death. That sounded pretty appealing at the moment, especially when he heard a very distinct, "B... I'm gonna..."

A gasp.

Light was considering other modes of suicide by this point. Anything would do, pain didn't matter. Just as long as it was quick. Maybe he could smother himself in his pillow. Did that really work?

Light heard the bed creak mightily as (Light assumed) B let himself fall next to C.

"That was incredible," B murmured.

"You're telling me. Have you ever... before?"

"No, have you?"

"No."

Light twitched a little. He did _not_ want to _know_ this stuff! This was so traumatizing! What the hell was he supposed to do about this? And on top of that, the two had just met! What sober person sleeps with someone they met earlier that same evening? Had B _drugged_ him? Why the hell had Light's otherwise sane roommate decided that he needed in B's pants, right there, right then?

More importantly— far, _far _more importantly— why had they decided to do it in _his _room? _With him there._

"I should go back to my own room," B whispered.

"You're right."

A creak as B stood up and some footsteps as he crossed the room, the occasional pause where he stopped to pick up an article of clothing, the shuffle of a person dressing. The door opening.

Another creak as C stood up, too, and footsteps as he followed him.

"Wait," C whispered, laughing. "What am I doing? Sorry."

"No, it's okay. Do you want to come to my room?"

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of you going to your room?"

"Well... yeah. Okay, then we'll both stay here."

"But the point was for you to be in your room," C whispered, confused.

"Yeah, but... you know what? Fuck it. I'm staying here. Roger doesn't like it, he can suck my dick."

Oh, please no, the _image_.

"Or _I_ could."

Even though he didn't know him, Light could tell that B was smirking. "If you insist."

...It was a very traumatizing night.


	18. Casework

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note. Not much of this is really from Another Note (Except B, technically, although fanon B is so different from canon B) but some of the ideas from the case file here are similar to the book. Including the tradition of silly names. XD**

* * *

Light did eventually manage to fall asleep, no thanks to the noises that simply didn't stop at any point while he was conscious. He dreamed of giraffes hiding under his bed and occasionally sticking their heads up like a periscope, staring at him with wide, round eyes.

This trauma was the first thing he thought of when he woke up. As such, he was _extremely_ careful to listen before he moved.

Nothing. Silence, except for the familiar sound of C's breathing and the less-familiar breath of another person. But no 'noises.'

Slowly, Light opened his eyes and looked over at his roommate.

B was still there.

C was sleeping, a small smile on his face, sprawled out naked on top of the other boy who was also... less than clothed. Light wished that their position was more successful in covering up the bits of them that he really would rather have not seen.

Quickly averting his eyes, Light got out of bed as quickly and quietly as possible, got dressed, and all but ran from his room to A's.

* * *

"Why are you waking me up at 6:47 in the morning?" were A's sleepy first words as he opened his frantically knocked-upon door. He yawned and rubbed his hair.

"C... he..."

A groaned. "K, I know it bothers you when he eats Cheerios on your bed or whatever he did this time, but it's not even 7, alright?" He started to close his door. "Go back to sleep..."

"A, wait," Light interjected hastily. "I swear this is something you'll want to hear."

Interest now piqued, A opened the door all the way and gave Light the once-over. "What's the matter? You look... stressed."

For once, someone was dead on!

"Let's just say, after the night I had, I _wish_ this was about something as petty as Cheerios."

A's eyebrows went up into his hair and he gestured Light in with a tilt of his head. "Hey, I don't want to wake up the neighbors. Q is still out from last night."

Light nodded, following him into the room and plopping down onto A's futon, holding his head. After closing the door, A sat down next to him.

"What happened? Is C okay?"

"I'd say he's more than okay, considering he spent the night with B."

"What? Who's B?"

"A new student. I guess he's the smart one with the murdered parents that L found through the case."

"So he slept over with the new kid to ease him into living here. That's not so bad," A said, leaning back and crossing his legs.

"Almost. Take out the word 'over.'"

A frowned for a second, trying to figure out what Light was saying. He ran the sentence over again in his head, then... "Oooh..."

"Yeah. New guy, first meeting him, spent the whole night... well."

"Well, you know... good for him?" A tried.

"It's not even that. A, they did it _in my room_."

"Where else would they—"

"_With me there._"

"...Ooooh..."

"They thought I was asleep."

"You weren't," the older boy offered.

"And I _wasn't_ for the second and third and fourth and... I can't even imagine how they, you know, _managed_ so much!"

"The first thing I learn about B is that he's good in bed," A said solemnly.

"And the first thing _I_ learn about B is what sounds he makes when he..." Light shuddered. "They're still asleep. I don't want to be there when they wake up and wander around the room looking for their clothes."

"Then," A stood up, stretching, "let's go work on the case. I'm sure L's awake. And I had custody of the file last night so you wouldn't even have to go back to your room to get it."

"We have it practically memorized by now, anyway," Light grumbled.

"You... do?" A asked uneasily.

"Of course I do. We've been working on it for days. Don't you?"

"Oh. Yes. Of course. I just didn't think you did."

A really wasn't a very good liar. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Well, lemme just get dressed and we'll fetch L."

"Okay. I'll meet you outside."

"It'll only take a second," A said, tearing off his shirt in one fluid motion.

In addition to being a bad liar, A was apparently completely unobservant.

"No, really, I'll meet you outside," Light insisted as he tore out of the room and closed the door behind him. Light sighed. He was such a good person for not staying in there and taking advantage of his oblivious friend.

As he said, it was only seconds until A reappeared, laughing at him, file in hand. "You just really don't like naked guys, do you? Ten years old and already a womanizer..."

...Cool, go with that.

* * *

L was evidently not feeling as contrary as he usually was, because he allowed them to collect him without a fight, slouching his way to the library, indifferently dodging a very early-rising student who tried to trip him (looks like the rumors Light had started about L cheating had started to take hold, Light noticed cheerfully), and taking his usual place at their usual table.

"Today we'll solve this," Light said firmly.

"I find that very unlikely, K-kun," L said in his most stereotypical monotone. "We have already been working on it for several days— I myself have had even more exposure to it— and we have determined next to nothing."

A didn't say anything.

"No. No case is impossible to solve. Let's go over what we know."

L sighed. "Three murders, no sign of forced entry, no witnesses, and the complete lack of fingerprints at the scene."

"Okay. Let's just... brainstorm, I guess," Light said tiredly. "Every stupid idea you can possibly think of. Just put it out there."

"Not an inside job. Instead, someone very skilled at security-breaking who came from the outside," L fired off.

"Lover's quarrel," A mumbled. "The man who wasn't one of the spouses had an affair with the woman, and the husband killed them all and then himself?"

"By beating himself to death?" L scoffed.

"We're _brainstorming_, L," Light said. "Shut the hell up. What if one of the kids did it?"

"Perhaps you, K-kun, slipped over there in the dead of night and slaughtered them all?"

"Don't be stupid, L!"

"I thought we were brainstorming?" L replied innocently.

"Alright! We're not getting anywhere."

They stopped talking, simply staring down at their own copies of the fact pattern.

"So, some of the bodies were found in different conditions," Light finally said.

"Two were beaten to death and one was... disemboweled," A confirmed.

"But there was much less blood at the scene than one would expect from... you know, removing a person's bowels. So they must have been killed elsewhere and moved. Beaten Guy and Beaten Woman were the husband and wife. So who was Disemboweled Guy?"

"What were their names?" A interrupted.

L and Light stared at him. "Does it matter?" they said at the same time. They glared at each other.

"Well, I just thought we could stop referring to them by the way in which they were murdered," the oldest of the boys said pointedly.

"Fine," Light relented. "The two who were beaten to death were Mrs. Beatrice Birthday and her husband Mr. Bernard Birthday. The disemboweled one was Mr. Lyle Longmire."

"These people possess strange names," L mused. "Where were the bodies found?"

"In the most prominent possible place, the front room."

"And how were they found?"

"Dead."

"Yes, K-kun," L replied condescendingly. "But on their stomachs? On their backs?"

Light looked at the gruesome picture included in the file. He had resisted examining it during their earlier attempts at the case, and he certainly hadn't shown it around. Because... 'disemboweled' was actually an understatement for what this man had had done to him. He was _eviscerated_, but only in the stomach area. He looked untouched everywhere else- even his hands were clean. Just that his intestines looked like they had been put through a shredder and swirled around. Like a carved-out pumpkin with the guts neatly put back in.

The beaten people were now more of a purple-type color than the peach they had apparently originally been. The high-quality camera had captured their crushed noses and faces, their swollen lips, their bloodied ears.

Without a word, Light slid the picture to the middle of the table.

"I see," L said quietly.

"So..." A finally said, "We might be able to profile this murderer. Hedonistic-type, maybe? Probably male."

"Probably Caucasian, since his victims were," Light added.

"So we've narrowed it down to all white men. Excellent," L said sarcastically.

Ignoring him, Light continued with, "Anything else we can get from this picture?"

A chewed his lip. L chewed his thumb. Light didn't chew anything because it was unhygienic and disgusting to chew on body parts.

"I've got nothing," A mumbled, pushing the picture away from himself.

"Well, for adults, these people were all fairly small," Light said slowly. "Maybe the killer is relatively small? It's not exactly easy to beat someone to death if they're larger than you."

"So perhaps a young man?" L suggested. "I believe we should further investigate the children living on the premises of the orphanage."

"If it were that easy, the police would already have figured this case out," Light objected.

"That is true. Very well, I will at this time consent to hear the better idea that you evidently have."

Light scowled.

"As I thought. Conveniently, all these children now live on Wammy's House grounds, in three floors of dormitories, making it easy to interview them. I will take the first floor. K-kun, you take the second. A, the third floor has the least residents. If either of you find anyone suspicious, or anyone you feel may warrant further investigation, please report them to me immediately."

"Who put you in charge?" Light demanded.

"I did," L said politely. "Let us begin now. There is no reason to wait."

A's eyebrows shot up. "But there are classes today!"

"So? They all have the day off. It is the perfect chance. Simply do not attend your classes. I assure you, A. For you, it will not make a great difference."

Mouth wide, A watched as L slouched away.


	19. Epiphanies

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Hello! I'm sorry about the slow updates. D: This fic is REALLY tough to write and I've also gotten obsessed, despite my best efforts, with Sherlock. This won't be abandoned, though, so even if it gets neglected, don't worry!**

* * *

Hours of interviewing later, hours of hunting down kids who were often playing outside or who were in the cafeteria or doing whatever it is normal children do on a day off from school, Light had found no one suspicious.

It was the most contact he'd had with stupid people in _years_ and he was tempted to go to the bell tower and toss himself off it. Most of the kids had no idea what was even going on (how do you miss a triple homicide?), which demonstrated their observation skills. One of the kids even started picking his nose during his interview. All of these people were excruciatingly normal, and he couldn't imagine a single one of them doing anything even remotely violent, let alone disemboweling someone.

That being said, Light was well-trained, and he knew he couldn't go on just his instinct. So he asked trick questions and was subtle and discreet and charming or whatever the particular person required, and by the end of the day he was certain that none of the kids living on the second floor were guilty.

Needless to say, it was a sight for sore eyes when Light dragged himself back to the library and was met with a thoroughly depressed-looking A.

"Find anyone?" Light asked tiredly.

"No. Did you?"

"_No one_. All I know is that these kids are about as dumb as bricks."

"Tell me about it. I forgot what that was like."

L joined them a few minutes later. "I found no one deserving of any suspicion," he said reluctantly. "I suggest we break for the evening. Family dinner is in a few hours."

"Seconded," A said firmly, jumping to his feet. "I have to study for the tests tomorrow and I've done nothing today."

...This meant that Light had to go back to his room.

* * *

He was relieved to find that C and B did, at least, have all their clothes on.

When he walked in the door, C looked up from the textbook he was reading and smiled at him. "Hey, K. Didn't see you much today." B was sitting next to him, reading over his shoulder. Had B followed him to his classes?

"I was working on the case."

B looked at Light, too, now, his uncanny red eyes dissecting him in a way that made Light distinctly uncomfortable.

"It is very pleasant to meet you, K," he said like he was doing a read-through of a play. Oh, so _that's_ what his voice sounded like when he wasn't panting and grunting. "C has spoken of you."

"Oh, that's nice," Light offered.

"What is the case to which you are referring?"

"I can't really tell you about it." Although... actually, it was probably about the murder of his parents, so maybe it would be okay if he told him, especially since they were making so little progress finding out who may have...

...Wait.

The realization bloomed slowly in Light's mind as if it was wading through molasses, his brain reluctant to process such a piece of information. But it had to be true, didn't it? What else would explain it? Who else could have done it? Who else could have gotten in without breaking in, who would be allowed straight into the orphanage without a second thought? The certainty slid down Light's spine like an ice-cold slug, throwing up goose bumps on Light's skin and sending a shiver from his tailbone straight up to the back of his neck.

Oh... oh _God_...

"It's confidential," Light continued, hoping that his sudden realization wasn't evident in the brief hesitation in his sentence flow. "The top three students in the weekly ranks take this special class and this time we happen to have a real case to work on."

"Who are the top three students? Besides yourself."

"Well, I'm first this week. L is second, A is third."

For reasons Light couldn't imagine, B's eyes went sharp and his voice went low. "_You_ are the first ranked student?"

A big red flag in Light's mind told him not to do his usual L sabotage right this moment, not to say a word against him. For once, he didn't preface his answer with the rumor he'd started that L was cheating. "This week I am. L and I tend to switch off."

"Ah." His stare relaxed a bit. "L is well-known, even outside of this school. His fame is already spreading in the real world. You, however, are not as well-renowned..."

Light prickled despite the fact that he could still feel that slug on his back. His fame was probably only because L was such an ass that he was more memorable to the people who were unfortunate enough to come in contact with him. Infamy did tend to spread faster than fame. That would change in time.

"Well, he is a remarkable detective," Light agreed.

C snorted. "Never heard you say that _before_."

Light shot him a very obvious 'shut up' glare, but C didn't acknowledge it.

"He hates L," C confided in B against Light's will, popping a handful of Cheerios into his mouth. "L hates him back, actually. Usually you'll hear them totally badmouth each other, although the rest of the school has no idea that K hates L because K pretends to be really nice to him whenever anyone else is around. Except me and A."

Light gaped.

"Interesting," B replied, returning his attention to Light. C smiled, clearly pleased with himself, and looked at Light, apparently oblivious and certainly indifferent to the '_what the fuck' _stare he was getting.

Using his best forced polite voice, Light said, "C, can I talk to you?"

"Sure."

"Alone?"

"Okay." C stood up. So did B.

"_Really_ alone?"

C looked over his shoulder at B, who stared back at C. "Oh. Well... maybe after dinner?" C suggested.

"Yeah, okay," Light said in L's monotone (he'd have to watch that, couldn't be imitating the boy, that was A's area and A really didn't need another thing taken away from him).

C started explaining family dinner to B as Light grabbed a textbook and camped out on his bed, trying to bury himself in the information he'd had memorized since the first read-through. But how do you do that when you're sitting in the same room as a monster? A monster who is sleeping with your roommate?

A monster who you absolutely can't _prove_ is a monster.

That was far too true, wasn't it. Light didn't have any proof. He didn't even really have a motive, although it probably wouldn't be hard to figure one out. No murder weapon, no motive, and no proof except the possibility of an opportunity and no better ideas for suspects.

None of that would hold up. Not to Wammy, who Light may have to face with this information, and certainly not in court.

B and C were just sitting, but, despite himself, Light was convinced that they were going to jump each other at any moment. He kept glancing up at them to make sure they hadn't. And, more, to make sure B wasn't beating C to death or disemboweling him.

B noticed.

"Do you require assistance, K?"

"Yes, actually, I have a question," Light pulled out of his ass.

"I would be delighted to attempt to answer it, but as you are the student ranked first here, certainly there is no question which is beyond you." So... was that just how this guy talked? Like he was reading a script, like someone else was giving him the words to say?

"Oh, it's just a personal question," he stalled. "Your Aptitude Test. Have you taken it yet?"

"No."

"Oh, I imagine you will soon, then."

And with that, Light stretched and excused himself as courteously as possible.

* * *

Light found himself pounding on A's door as he had been only a few hours before.

At least A wasn't in his pajamas this time. Also, when he came to the door, he looked far less tired, although significantly more depressed.

This time, when Light opened his mouth, he couldn't even come up with the words to say. His face must have given him away, though, because A didn't make any witty remarks about how this was becoming a habit, simply letting him in without a word.

"Q, could you give us a second?"

The older boy left them alone without complaint.

"K, you look like you've seen a ghost," A said seriously.

"I..."

"Were C and B... you know... again?"

"I think... that B is the murderer."

"For..."

"Yes, for the case. Two beatings and a disembowelment."

"But that would mean he killed his parents!"

"And that's why it makes sense," Light insisted. "You're statistically _so_ much more likely to be killed by someone you know. And it would explain how he got inside the orphanage without breaking in, without being a ward or an employee. His parents just let him right in."

"That's... I mean, that's a theory, and it makes sense, but it's not enough to accuse someone of murdering three people."

"I'm aware," Light said curtly. "But you need to meet this guy, A. I'm sure you'll feel the same way."

"Well... maybe at the family dinner?"

Together, they planned exactly how to make this happen while seeming coincidental, hailed Q to come back in, resumed studying (at least A did), and waited nervously for a dinner date with someone who was, probably, a monster.


	20. Murder Mysteries

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Apology: I'm so sorry. Really, I'm sorry. This took forever. I have no valid excuse. This thing is gonna be pretty long by the time it's done. I was looking at my map of it, and it's barely a quarter of the plot done.**

**Announcement: I said I would choose a new icon when FF re-enabled links on profiles, and links are re-enabled! As such, I have chosen the lovely creation of Krazy-K0ala! Look her up!**

**A link to her profile: httpCOLON/wwwDOTfanfictionDOTnet/u/2666051/**

**And to her DeviantArt: httpCOLON/krazy-k0alaDOTdeviantartDOTcom**

* * *

Nervous, A and Light arrived early enough to see the end of the staff's setting-up process. As the final, long table was dragged into place (a sound Light hoped he'd never have to hear again), Light and A began collaborating.

It was harder than expected (how exactly do you plan a conversation with a potential murderer and your roommate, who he's fucking, who may or may not know/care that he's a psychopath?), and other students started to arrive before they had anything concrete.

When B and C finally arrived, they looked... slovenly to say the least. C waved at Light who forced a flawless smile back and gestured with his head that they should take a seat nearby.

"B, this is A," Light said as pleasantly as possible. "A, B."

"Pleased to meet you," A offered.

"Agreed," B said blankly. He glanced at where C sat down next to Light and placed himself across from him, next to A, who leaned slightly away, giving Light a very brief, wide-eyed glance.

Either not seeing this or just not caring, B straightened and craned his neck, evidently looking for something, casting around until his eyes landed on—

Light followed his gaze to see that it had alighted on and not moved from L.

L, of course, noticed, and met the stare head-on, unblinking. B's eyes narrowed and L's lips slipped slowly up into a smirk, his thumb coming to his lips and sticking there. Then he looked away, up at the ceiling as he sometimes liked to, the only sign of the exchange the smirk that lingered in his expression.

Light and A exchanged raised eyebrows as Light passed C a bowl of cauliflower as it came around. C grinned, apparently indifferent to the entire situation, and loaded up his plate.

"So, A," B said suddenly, face molded into a mask of pleasantness, as if absolutely nothing had happened. "What do you do? Any hobbies?"

"Math," A lied.

"Interesting. Myself, I enjoy a good murder mystery."

Light thought the smile that accompanied that statement was appropriate, and elected to take full advantage of B's apparent focus to _finally_ get a word alone with C.

Trying to be stealthy, Light leaned a bit toward his roommate and rested his chin on his palm, letting his fingers cover up his mouth from the front. From such a position, he whispered, "_C_."

Catching on, C imitated his posture and, after taking a perilously large mouthful of cauliflower, whispered back, _"Yeah?"_

_"So, you and B, huh?"_

The older boy grinned goofily. Light wanted to punch him in the face. _"Yeah, I guess so_."

_"I'm happy for you. But, um, don't you think that happened a little fast?"_

C shrugged.

_"Did you know him before, or something?"_

_"Nope. There's just something about him."_

_"I've noticed."_

Light was about to move the conversation in the direction of 'stop bloody fucking in our room when I'm there, asshole,' but before he could continue, B's gaze had turned back to C and C was beyond Light's reach.

* * *

"I," A said grandly as he swept into the mostly-deserted library, tossing the doors aside with practiced familiarity, "have never met a bigger freak in my entire life, and I live at Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children."

"Right?" Light demanded. "Look. We've got to talk to Wammy. We can't have B working on his own case."

A frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "What makes you think he'll get ranked high enough to do that?"

"No, of course he won't," Light backpedaled. Seeing as how A was going to be the one getting replaced by B, Light could see how it might be a sensitive topic. "He just seems really smart, and I'm worried he might find out what we're investigating."

"No, he won't," A insisted, actually crossing his arms over his chest. "L isn't going to talk, so if you or I don't tell him, no one will. How much have you told C about the case?"

"Nothing."

"Then we're fine. B won't find out. We can still tell Mr. Wammy we're suspicious."

"We don't have enough proof to actually accuse B of anything," Light replied, annoyed. "A hunch is only enough to get Wammy to agree to keep him out of the case."

"But he won't be in the top three so that's irrelevant," A said firmly.

Light shook his head. He sat down heavily in one of the library chairs, trying to send the tension into the cushion. He was probably worried for no reason. B was creepy, but besides a possible opportunity there was no reason to believe he'd done anything at all. Gut feelings weren't evidence.

He sighed, shook his head again, and tried to divert the subject a bit. "I got to talk to C for about four seconds. I only managed to confirm that they didn't know each other before Wammy's."

A, socially-aware soul that he was, visibly relaxed at the obvious topic change. "Did you ask him to stop... you know?" He cringed, but a small smile escaped his attempt at sobriety.

"I ran out of time," Light grumbled, bringing his legs up to his chest. The moment he noticed he'd done so, he put them down and crossed them.

"What do you think he meant, he loves a good murder mystery?" A speculated, taking a seat next to Light and reaching over his shoulder to grab a book from one of the shelves. Light wasn't sure if it was a book that was actually related to one of A's classes, or if A just compulsively needed to study at all times.

"That he's a psycho who murdered his parents and a random guy," he suggested flatly.

"He's so creepy. That moment when he saw L?" A continued, frown threatening to consume his face. Light hoped the frown didn't consume the seven charming freckles on his cheekbones. Not that he had counted them or thought they were charming. "He looked _murderous_."

"He might kill L."

A rolled his eyes and the frown was gone. "Don't sound so hopeful."

"Sorry," Light replied cheerfully.

"But he might try."

"He might," Light agreed.

"You know how he dyed his hair black? I mean, he was obviously blonde at one time."

"Yeah."

"Well, what if he's copying L? Like what I've been doing, except he's actually trying to be him. That look wasn't friendly, though... what if he hates him for some reason?"

"He just got here. How could he hate him so quickly?"

A raised an eyebrow. "_You_ swore eternal vengeance after day one."

"...It was day two. And L screwed with me."

"Regardless, he might have known L before Wammy's House."

"Well," Light remembered, "he did say that L's renown outside of Wammy's was growing. So maybe he knew _of _him, but they'd never met. And maybe little details about L are getting popular, too. Like his freakish hair."

"And then he dyed his hair and killed his parents. To attract L's attention? To get close to him?"

"To come to _Wammy's_ and be close to him."

"How did he find out about Wammy's House?"

Light shrugged. "We're pretty closely associated with Harbor Oaks."

"So he knew that he had to be an orphan to get here, to be close to L, so he killed his parents. And he killed Mr. Longmire to make the case interesting and confusing enough to get the police's attention, then to _stump_ them, so that they'd ask us?"

"He knew his intelligence would be noticed, that way, and that he'd end up here," Light agreed. "On paper, he's exactly what Mr. Wammy is looking for. Brilliant, with a bias against crime. A bit old, though."

"Maybe..." A said slowly, "Mr. Wammy made an exception about age because B reminds him of L and... he thinks B might be a friend for him."

Light leaned back in his chair. "Wouldn't _that_ be interesting."

Just as it was really starting to roll, Light's train of thought was derailed by A suddenly leaping to his feet. "Okay. This is enough for one night," he said. "Tests are tomorrow. I've gotta go study for astronomy. Can't have geniuses walking around knowing nothing about the solar system."

"Can I sleep in your room?" Light asked helplessly, knowing it was futile because his best friend was, unfortunately, insane.

"Normally, yes," A said. At least he seemed sympathetic. "But I'm really behind and the tests are tomorrow."

"Fine," Light grumbled.

"You're going to have to face them eventually." A looked at one of the many nearby clocks— the library was littered with them. "It's not that late, yet. If you go now, they might be elsewhere and you can fall asleep before any... _events_ occur."

Light gave a long-suffering sigh. "Some friend you are. Won't even let me sleep on your floor in order to avoid trauma," he accused him half-heartedly.

A grinned. "Love you too, man," he said, and scampered off to his room.


	21. Apology

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: A hug for anyone who picked up the Sherlock Holmes reference in the last chapter. :)**

**I'm sorry this updates so slow! BUT here is a new chapter, late Christmas present?**

* * *

Light did not, in fact, make it back to the room before any 'events' occurred, but thankfully neither did he return _during _any. Also happily, although they were more naked than Light would have liked, B and C were at least no longer conscious so he was able to creep into his bed with minimal trauma.

C must have accepted that he would never again be one of the first ranked at Wammy's— he wasn't studying and it was Thursday night. He probably wouldn't even be fourth anymore. When B took the Aptitude Test and got his initial rank...

Light knew— without proof, he _knew_— that B would be third that Saturday. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. He was extraordinarily worried about how they were going to keep his own crime scene away from him, and even more worried about how A was going to take it.

_Love you too, man_.

Light huffed and rolled over onto his side. He felt completely absurd, of course. Obviously, A meant nothing at all by his statement, so why had it made him so ridiculously happy? Was this what it was like when he convinced various girls that he loved them? Did they see through him after all but simply not care?

No, Light was certain his acting skills were better than that. Besides, women had a way of spreading information amongst themselves, so if someone knew he was lying, they'd all know.

He sighed again, burying his face in his pillow. He should study for the tests the next day, but his mind was in too many different places. Fear that B and C would wake up and go at it again, worry about C, fear of B, a sick feeling of dread about A... all wrapped up in some strange, warmish glow that resided in his stomach whenever he thought of what A had said.

No, he wasn't collected enough to study. He'd just let L have it, this week.

* * *

That Saturday, Light stood with the crowd of rank-viewers as Wammy calmly strode into the room, posted the piece of paper, and then dived the hell out of the way. Light didn't feel compelled to look at the list, electing instead to watch A's face, and to watch the exact moment in which his eyes stopped scanning the page, widened, relaxed, then went blank.

The older boy turned around sharply and struggled his way through the cluster of students, many of whom were looking at him with some mixture of pity, surprise, and annoyance. Light apologized to anyone they wacked or stepped on, trailing behind his friend until they were free, using the added space to catch up and walk beside him.

A's shoulders were tense. He was walking like a robot, so quickly that Light had to trot to keep up. By the set of his face, Light wasn't convinced that A was actually in at the moment, so he didn't bother trying to speak until the other boy had shoved open the door of his bedroom and crossed directly to his bed, sitting down on it as if his legs would have given out at that moment either way.

Hesitantly, Light sat down next to him. He just had enough time to notice that A's roommate had wisely chosen to be elsewhere before the only stimuli in his entire world was A's head where it came down upon his shoulder.

A quick intake of air through his nose was the only sign of surprise Light allowed himself. Inside, though, he was high as a kite. A had his head on his shoulder. A had his head on his shoulder, and he _smelled_ good. Like shampoo and maybe some kind of hair product. Light was... Light was _tingly_.

No, he was absolutely not tingly. Feelings for A aside, Light did not get _tingly_ and he was not _tingly_ now, and he definitely remained distinctly _not tingly, dammit_ when A scooted in closer to him, searching for comfort and contact.

It wasn't Light's area, but in this case he thought he might try. Carefully, Light twisted around until he could wrap his arms around A, pulling him closer.

A didn't resist. Now, in addition to tingles (no! no tingles!), he felt a wet warmth on the skin of his shoulder where it seeped through his clothes, and knew of nothing to do but tighten his arms.

After quite a while of this, A finally pulled back, and Light's breath caught in his throat at the sight of A in tears. He was beautiful like this, Light decided at once. The wetness of his eyes made his irises greener than Light could ever remember them being before, the blank, broken expression he wore, beyond exquisite. He looked hopeless, exhausted, and even the snot where it dripped from his...

Okay, yes, Light was turning into a giant girl.

"You need to talk to L and figure out a way to get Wammy to keep B away from the case," A said blankly, looking at Light dispassionately.

Doing his best not to sound breathless, Light replied, "Okay."

"You need to do it tonight."

"Alright."

"You need to get over yourself and deal with the fact that L is an ass."

Light was pretty sure it was proof of his love that he agreed without throwing a fit.

A nodded, smiled weakly, and rubbed at his eyes.

"I'm a mess, aren't I."

It wasn't really a question, but Light still responded, shaking his head mutely.

"Yes I am. I'm crying over my grades. I'm a trivial train wreck."

"Neither," Light said gravely, firmly. "You're neither."

A sighed and shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile there. "And in the class," he said as if Light hadn't spoken, "You need to act natural. I know you're a good actor so that shouldn't be too hard."

Light nodded.

A inhaled and exhaled slowly, once. "Okay," he said firmly. "Go talk to L."

* * *

Light stood in front of L's door, glaring at it, and wondered why he had agreed to this.

Surely A was the better man for the job. He hated L nearly (nearly being the operative word) as much as Light did, of course, but he was better at hiding it. Not that one's ability to hide things mattered when it came to L. The kid was better than the MEG scan they had in the lab.

It was probably the freckles. A had damn cute freckles.

Gritting his teeth at himself, Light made a fist and knocked on L's door a bit harder than necessary. Moments later, the boy in question appeared, looking at him blankly. "Yes, K-kun?" he asked innocently.

How was he gonna tell him this? Just announce that B was the murderer and that he believed this with no proof at all but he was certain? L would laugh him out of the room.

There wasn't much else for it.

"B is ranked third," Light informed him, as if he didn't know.

L stared at him blankly and for a wild moment Light wondered if L really didn't pay attention to anything but first and second. Maybe third was so far beneath him that he didn't bother.

"I know," he droned finally, when he evidently decided that Light wasn't going to speak again. "Did you come here to tell me that or is there something interesting?"

Accept that L was ass, A had said. Accept he was an ass.

In a rush, Light said, "He's third, which means he's now in the class, which means he's working on his own murder."

L waited for more.

"That's it."

L raised a brow. "I don't understand the problem."

Light stared at him, disbelief written all over his face. "L, he's going to be _working on his own murder_. Also, why aren't you alarmed that I just told you he's a murderer with no proof?"

"I didn't know you had no proof," L pointed out. Light nearly slammed L's own door in L's face. "But I also think he killed those three people. I just don't see a problem with him working on his own case. In fact, I think it's a fascinating idea."

"You're useless," Light informed him flatly, crossing his arms across his chest. "I'm going to tell Wammy to give us a different case for any weeks that B makes it to the top three."

Light only made it a few feet away from L's room when he noticed the set of familiar shuffling footsteps following him. Without turning around, he said, loftily, "What do you want, L."

"Hm?" the other boy replied, as if this question was a total surprise. He jammed his hands into his pockets and said without blinking once, "To see you try to convince Mr. Wammy of anything with no proof."

Light seethed but it _was_ what he was on his way to do. He said nothing and marched to the old man's office.

* * *

He would have hesitated at the door but L was there, hovering around behind him and yet still managing to seem disinterested, so instead he knocked smartly and waited for a response.

"Come in."

Light glanced back at L and raised an eyebrow. L followed him inside.

The room hadn't changed much in all the time Light had lived here. The grandfather clock was there, the shelves upon shelves of books were there, the same rug, the same chairs, the same heavy desk. The same trapdoor. The only real change was an update in technology— Wammy always had a state-of-the-art computer. The modern, mechanical _whirr_ing was out of place in such an old-fashioned room.

Wammy stopped whatever he was doing on the computer in order to smile at his wards and rest his forearms on the desk, hands folded.

He looked at Light, then L. If he was surprised to see them together he showed no sign of it. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you," Light said.

L said nothing, but his shuffling gait was distinctly cheerful as he went to one of the big red chairs and perched on it, drawing his knees up to him and wriggling his toes in delight at the show he was about to witness.

Wammy shot him a puzzled look but then refocused on Light. "Is everything alright, boys?"

Light sat down too, trying not to make it obvious when he scooted the chair a bit further away from L. It was always good when he could put a few extra inches between them. He didn't know how else to begin this conversation, so he simply bit the bullet. "I think B killed his parents."

Mr. Wammy blinked at him. "I..." he stuttered, "Why? Why do you think that?"

"I don't have any real proof," Light admitted. "But I'm certain of it."

"Okay, so you have no proof," Wammy said. Light could tell that he was fighting to keep his voice from holding any condescension or disbelief. "Then what are you basing this certainty on?"

"He isn't right," Light said, hating the words as they came out of his mouth. "There's something off about him, and sometimes the way he says things..."

"B is a highly disturbed young man," Wammy pointed out. "Idiosyncrasy is to be expected."

"It goes beyond idiosyncrasy," Light insisted, keeping himself polite. "He is just..."

"It's true that we have no proof," L spoke up suddenly, startling Light badly. "But we are both trained fairly extensively in the practice of attending to one's instincts. Not blindly, of course, but you have always taught us to investigate what they suggest. I have the same instinct about B as K-kun, which I formed entirely separately of him."

Light looked at L but L was watching Wammy, patient and expectant.

Wammy shook his head and sighed. "Alright. Obviously I can't expel him based on your instincts, but you'd both know that, so what did you come for?"

"We would like an alternative case to work on for any weeks in which B scores within the top three," Light answered, his faculties returning to him as he got past the worst part.

Wammy rarely needed a moment to think things over, but this time he let this idea percolate in his brain for a few seconds. "That's acceptable," he said after his beat of silence. "There's no harm in that, especially if you two maintain your work on the current case in the free time I know you have. _Together._" His eyes started to drift back to his computer where evidently he was doing something important. Then he appeared to hear what he had just said, and added, "Assuming you both continue to earn your places in the class."

"I wouldn't worry about that," L replied, his voice a perfect monotone at the same time Light said, "Yes, Mr. Wammy."

His eyes were already heading towards his monitor again. "At the very least, he shouldn't be working on the case about his parent's murder," Wammy said. He forced his eyes away and to them. "Is there anything else?"

When they informed him there wasn't, he politely told them he was busy and they made their way out.

They walked in silence in the direction of the dormitories. It was just gone one o'clock so the hallways were as busy as they ever got, and Light took it as a measure of his success that no one gave him any funny looks for walking with L— they knew they weren't friends, of course, but evidently no one knew the extent to which Light hated him.

A passing student, U, banged into L's shoulder in a way Light could instantly tell was intentional. He couldn't believe his luck.

"Hey!" Light exclaimed, hoping he was able to keep the glee out of his voice and sound suitably affronted.

U turned around, cocking his head and already looking a little guilty. "What?" he said.

"What was that for?" Light demanded, walking over to him and crossing his arms pointedly, giving U his best glare.

Nervous, U replied, "What was what for?"

"You rammed into L on purpose."

"It was an accident."

"You mumbled 'cheater' as you did," Light pointed out.

"I—"

"L is not a cheater," Light said loudly, firmly, taking another step into U's personal space. He saw that he was starting to draw a crowd and that L was standing on the sidelines, watching with the blank face that Light envied.

"But I heard—"

"You shouldn't listen to rumors," he spat. "Just because L is ranked first so often, and just because it seems easy for him, does _not_ mean he gets there by cheating!"

U gaped at him.

"Now apologize to L," Light ordered.

The gape turned into a look that very clearly implied he believed him to be mad. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Who died and made _you_ king?" U demanded, finally starting to get angry.

As U heated up, Light changed his tone to cold. "I like to see justice done," he said, voice like ice, gaze possibly colder. "Apologize."

U stared at him for a few moments, seething, but there was no graceful way out of the situation. Without taking his glare off of Light, he said, "Sorry, L."

Light glanced at L, who was still watching with detached interest and who certainly didn't reply, not that Light had expected him to. Then back to U.

He could push it further, of course he could. He could make U go over there, explain exactly why he was sorry, actually look L in the eye as he did it. With a few more minutes, Light could probably get him to do it in song. This was enough for now, though, he decided. A few people nearby who had stopped to watch were tittering amongst themselves, shooting Light admiring glances, and he knew news would spread quickly of this incident.

So, instead of making an even bigger scene, Light nodded at U. "Thank you," he said, making his posture go relaxed and his voice sound pleased. The last part was easy, because he _was_ pleased.

U scowled at him and sulked away.

This incident had probably hurt Light's standing with him, but he wouldn't have too much trouble winning him back over. U essentially liked him, and anyway the boost it would give him otherwise was more than worth it.

For the finishing touch:

"You should stand up for yourself, L," Light said with a perfect imitation of a genuine smile, infallible to anyone's scrutiny but L's. He crossed over to L and put a hand on his shoulder, pretending he didn't even know there were four students watching. "We all know you wouldn't cheat. Would you?" He grinned.

L gave him a long, hard, steady look, his black eyes ever expressionless. Then he turned and shuffled away.

As Light went back to his room, he began to hear people speaking of what he'd just done, and whispered speculations about why L had walked away without a word.


	22. Insight

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Collegeeeeeee. I'm sorry. But long chapter!**

* * *

It was incredibly strange to be sitting in the designated room, in the second chair, and for A to be on neither side of him.

It was staggeringly strange to be sitting between L and _B._

It was flat-out weird that, sitting on the other side of B on a chair he'd dragged in, was C.

When Wammy had entered with a new case, a fake one with educational value, this time, he'd actually stopped short for a moment when he counted four children instead of three. He'd stared. C had stared back. B had stared at C. Light had stared at B.

L had stared at the ceiling.

Even after all that staring, nothing had actually been said. C hadn't looked like he was going anywhere, so eventually Wammy just sighed, shook his head, and then presented them with the fact pattern for the case, something about a spray-painted smiley face and hideous wallpaper.

Twenty minutes into the class, Light was still startled every time he turned his head and saw dyed-black hair instead of brown.

Also, Light thought as he organized the photographs into the correct sequence, he would like to poll the room to find out if anyone else had noticed that B was now dressed exactly like L.

* * *

Hours later, when Wammy let them go, Light dragged himself through his weekly visit to Sayu and then back to his room. He was exhausted, but at least Wammy had kept his word about not letting B work on his own crime scene and six people had seen Light playing with his sister.

The class had been horrible. Without A's quiet, shaky sense of humor, it had simply been Light and L tearing at each other with the occasional insertion of alarmingly-insightful comments from B. The only really familiar thing had been his feeling of loathing in the direction of L and the complete lack of communication between L and the other person in the room.

In four hours, B had said not a single word to L.

He had, however, looked at him in a way that made Light's skin crawl. Rage. Hate. Ice. He had something personal against him, that was now beyond question. But why, then, was he dressing like him? He could hardly have failed to notice. And why did C simply sit next to him, not participating but not absent, and remain unconcerned by the waves of aggression that were rolling off his... boyfriend...?

So, basically, the entire four hours had been torture and now he just wanted to sleep.

He made it to his door and swung it open and was completely unsurprised that the first thing he saw was B's bare ass. He wasn't sure how they'd made it back to the room before him, or how they'd managed to get naked and already be halfway through their apparent favorite pastime, or why they couldn't do it elsewhere, or why they didn't seem to care that Light was standing in the doorway watching tiredly as his roommate very loudly expressed his enjoyment.

Light blinked hard. He was so tired, and his bed was _right there_, perfectly unmolested. And what was this, really, but ambient noise?

Light went to bed.

* * *

As it turned out, sleeping with such 'ambient noise' resulted in some very interesting thematically-consistent dreams.

Light awoke the next morning feeling lazy and strangely happy. It was Sunday morning, so no class and nothing to study. If B and C were doing anything, they were doing it quietly and he didn't know about it yet. He had nothing to do today. He would have plenty of time to see A, to eat a relaxing breakfast, to work on the case with—

His eyes popped open as his pleasant mood was ripped away from him by the memory of what exactly he had dreamed about the night before.

Or rather, who.

Nope, that hadn't happened. He scrambled out of bed, ignoring the sweaty pile of intertwined limbs that was B and C, and immediately changed his clothes, wadding up his pajamas and putting them directly into the laundry.

He proceeded then to the shower.

It was because B now looked like L, and B was the one he'd been hearing (seeing) so much of. Light's brain had simply spit back what he'd been surrounded by lately and gotten confused between L and B. And himself and C.

That had to be it.

As he vaulted out of the room, he ran headlong (nearly) into Wammy.

Wammy caught him. "Is everything all right?"

Light nodded fiercely. This was the absolute last thing he wanted to discuss with Wammy. "Fine. Bad dream, nothing to worry about."

Wammy looked at him searchingly but eventually appeared to decide that that was a satisfactory answer. He said, "About the case. The police will let you see the crime scene now. The bodies aren't there, of course, but I will take you and L there this afternoon."

* * *

The police officer nervously informed Light and L that, with the exception of the removal of the victims, the scene of the crime was exactly the way it had been when it was found. He left them alone as soon as he could. Judging from the way his eyes kept darting to L and away and how he just ignored Light completely, he wasn't entirely comfortable with genius children.

No matter. The moment he was out of sight, L got to work. He slouched over to where the bodies had once lain and squatted, chewing on his thumbnail. Not to be outdone, Light followed him but did not, thank you, squat.

"No murder weapon found," Light said. Silence wasn't going to get them anywhere and there was no one around to impress.

"Yes, thank you K-kun."

Light ignored this. "So where is it?"

"With the murderer, presumably," L said. "Unless he disposed of it elsewhere."

"But no one has found it."

"No, but I doubt they were looking in the right place. Mr. Wammy always says it is most difficult to see what's missing."

Seeing L's point, he gave the scene, long-memorized from endless hours staring at photographs, yet another look. "All the pictures we have included the bodies," Light said. "Now they're not there, but there is hardly any blood."

"It wasn't obvious in the close-up photos," L agreed, "but there isn't nearly enough blood for a disembowelment. Especially one so thorough that it was described as 'run through a blender.'"

"I assume someone here checked the blender they have in the kitchen."

"If they haven't done it yet, it's far too late now. And there is something else missing, of course." He switched thumbs, presumably for variety. "No fingerprints."

Light shook his head. "So many people live here, we likely wouldn't even get a partial."

"Rather, far too many fingerprints. And no hair, fingernails... no marks indicative of resistance found on the bodies."

"So they were drugged."

"No one would check for drugs when the cause of death is so obvious."

"He couldn't have done it here, or even drugged there would have been splatter."

"So they were killed elsewhere."

"But this place is secure and there were no signs of forced entry."

"Difficult to find some obscure point of entry, or climb, with three adult bodies." With a thoughtful face, L held up the thumb he'd been gnawing on.

"If the killer hand the bodies, it wouldn't be hard to get past the thumb scan," Light acknowledged.

"But why drag these bodies all the way out here? And why those three people?"

"If it was B, then because they're his parents."

"Mr. Wammy would scold us for working on such an assumption," L said blandly. "I, however, have no objection to it. Assuming it was B, where did he do it, why the disemboweled one, how did he get them here, and why did he put them in such a place?"

"B's home and the house of the disemboweled guy would have been checked," Light said, "so where else?"

L shook his head.

"Well, wherever they were killed, they were put here. It's obviously a message, but what and to whom?"

"It is likely only understandable to its intended recipient," L said. "It's a waste of time to try to determine its true meaning if we are not the target audience."

"This is a private institution, so they'd never let this get on the news," Light said. "It must be for a member of the orphanage, or a member of B's extended family? No, he has no other family."

"It may also be for someone at Wammy's House," L pointed out. "The institutions are closely associated. B's parents, as they worked here, would surely know this, and our goings-on. They may have talked about it to B over the years."

"So B killed his parents and someone else to send a message either to someone here or at Wammy's."

"Maybe he had a grievance against someone here. Maybe one or both of the parents was having an affair with someone."

"Too much conjecture."

"Fine, then to whom at Wammy's?"

"Me, you, A, or C. We're the ones likely to be hearing about a murder here and having enough access to it to receive a message. B could have heard about us through the cases, and Wammy's networking of us."

L said, "If the recipient is someone who knows the meaning of the message, you and I are eliminated."

"I don't know that you don't know what the message means," Light said, possibly a bit petulantly.

"True," L agreed, "but I do."

"And you don't know that I don't."

"Also true, well done, K-kun." Light tried not to twitch. "But I find it unlikely."

"Why?" Light demanded. "I'm nearly as well-known as you."

"Nearly," L emphasized smugly. "But that's not why. It's because B's presence in your life is disruptive in all ways and you want him gone. If you knew the meaning of message, you would be singing it."

"...Not in every way," Light grumbled.

All at once, L's laser focus and neutral expression were focused on Light. "In what way does it not, then?" he asked in a low voice. "He has taken over your bedroom, utterly wrecked your relationship with your roommate, your truest confidant, C, interfered with your plans to destroy me socially and steal my future title, and pushed the boy you love ever-closer down the path of suicide. Is there someone I have missed?"

Light gaped at him. In the end, all he could think to say was, "I'm not in love with A."

L smirked.

"What?"

"Who said anything about A?"

Light grit his teeth. "We did, a minute ago. One of the people B could have known about and could be trying to contact."

"Relax, K-kun," L said. "I hardly care if you're homosexual, and your love life is none of my concern."

"I'm not gay!" Light insisted.

"Of course not," L replied placatingly.

This just made Light more annoyed. "Stop projecting," he demanded.

He'd meant it idly, and perhaps immaturely, but when L was silent and returned his attention to the crime scene, it occurred to Light for the first time that there may be other people— other than B and C, of course, not him even though yes he had feelings for A the boy was just an exception, truly— in the world who might prefer someone of the same sex.

There was no posturing needed with L, no one to manipulate when it was just the two of them, so bluntly he said, "So you're gay?"

L turned the blankest of blank expressions on him. It was, quite frankly, a triumph of the indiscernible, and it was either a resounding negative, a resounding confirmation, or a look of disbelief that Light would waste his time with such trivialities.

After Light had been given several long moments to absorb this expression, L said, "It's unlikely A for the same reason: if he knew anything, he'd tell everyone and get B out of his life immediately."

Light let it go. No reason to pursue it. It changed nothing, either way. "Maybe it's C," he said. "They did..." he searched for the word, "_click_ rather quickly. But it seems a waste to kill one's parents just to get a boyfriend without trying more conventional methods first."

"It does," L agreed, sounding a bit amused. Then L hesitated, and Light gaped for the second time in as many minutes. L didn't _hesitate_. "It could be Mr. Wammy," the pale boy said a moment later, no trace of his earlier pause in his voice.

"That would mean he was withholding information," Light said dismissively. "Not to mention knowingly harboring a murderer."

"Yes. Of course." He shook his head. "What else?"

"Maybe B just really hated his parents?"

L contemplated him. "We need to do some interviewing."

Light nodded. "See if anyone might know where B might have killed his victims, his relationship with his parents and the other guy, and maybe if B had any friends who might have helped him with this."

"If he drugged them before he killed them, he might not have needed help. But yes let's check into that. To his school?"

L nodded.

* * *

And so they did.

The interviews were largely unhelpful, except as character witness. None of B's teachers believed he had been abused at home, but all of them (including the PE teacher but excluding one particularly burly physics teacher) were terrified of him, although they all did also mention his perfect grades and apparent lack of effort. Mr. Wammy thanked each interviewee politely each time but otherwise stayed in the background, remaining only to add a sense of legitimacy for the teacher, being interviewed by children.

Light did most of the talking, especially when they started in on the classmates. L sat or stood beside him, observing, asking the occasional question and, at Light's insistence, "trying not to look like too much of a freak."

From B's classmates, they learned that B most certainly had no friends, but no one had ever laid a finger on him, either.

So it was back to the orphanage to interview people the police had already covered: co-workers of the adult Birthdays.

Of these, most had seen B in passing but knew little more about him, and could not offer any insight about a quiet place he might have liked to hang out (or kill people in). All but one of them believed fully that neither of B's parents had ever mistreated him. One of them wasn't so sure but had nothing except a vague feeling that it might, maybe, be possible that they could have.

Their biggest discovery was that one of the co-workers happened to know Lysle. Not only was he a family friend, as Light and L had been told upon acquisition of the case, but he was B's godfather. It was a shame, the woman had said, because Lysle would have been the one to get B if he hadn't died alongside B's parents.

Even Wammy had frowned at that.

As they headed towards Wammy's car, several hours later, Light and L walked several paces head of him, together.

Quietly, Light said to L, "Maybe B just really wanted to get into Wammy's House."

"And made it a very close-to-home murder so that he'd definitely be noticed and definitely be taken in."

"But why? Does he want to be the detective everyone talks about?"

"Perhaps he likes the education," L replied drily.

"Why would he send a message to someone at Wammy's House, and then come here?"

"If he just wanted to get into Wammy's, there may not be a message."

"But the methods of murder. They take a lot of effort, and that level of brutality isn't necessary to simply be sure he got noticed and got in. If that was his only goal, he could have much more easily drugged them, brought them here, and sliced their throats. Gallons of blood would have made just as much an impression with a fraction of the bother."

They had reached the car, and Wammy had caught up.

"Productive day?" the older man asked as they all climbed into it.

They glanced at each other, and L answered for both of them. "Yes. It was."

* * *

Light returned to his room that evening with more trepidation than he'd felt any time except the first after the initial awkward night of B on C action. B was receiving a blow job, but everything was covered and C was under the blankets so the slurping noises were muffled. Light figured he'd seen worse not twenty-four hours ago and didn't rush as he gathered up a book he'd been slowly reading in his minimal free time.

He went to the library and set up there, musing about what they had discovered that day and taking a few notes to organize his thoughts, not that he needed to.

It was B, Light was even more certain now. He had killed his parents and godfather in such a way as to leave a message, and put them in the orphanage so he'd end up in Wammy's. Nothing else made sense, but they still had no proof.

And Wammy. Surely, the message, whatever it was, couldn't have been for Wammy? Or if it was, surely he wasn't aware of it?

Light's reverie was broken by the soft sound of the library door opening. He looked up at the quiet, black-and-white-and-denim boy who had entered the room which had previously been empty except for Light.

Silently, L crossed the large room, in the direction of where Light was sitting. For a moment Light thought L was going to say something, but he wasn't approaching him: he was after the book shelf behind him. He walked around where Light sat, into the gap between his armchair and the wall of books behind it. Apparently without much deliberation, he selected a book. Then, L sat down on the armchair across from Light's.

There was no one else around.

L wasn't trying to talk to him, simply reading his book, soundless except for the frequent, soft _shhk_s of turning pages.

Yesterday, Light would have simply stood up and left.

Today, because there was no one to see and because L wasn't being unbearable at this exact moment, he didn't.


	23. Dropping Clues

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: ...I'm sorry. Really, just, I'm sorry. Not much else I can say but that, and yet again blame college and work. If it's comforting, it is nearly every day that I think about how I need to work on this story. It may crawl but I'm not going to completely give up at any point.**

* * *

Light had dreamed again, that night, but this time there hadn't been any 'ambient noise' for him to blame it on when he woke up in the morning. Again, he shoved his pajamas deep into the laundry basket and bailed on his bedroom as quickly as possible, stumbling upon a window of opportunity where B and C were simply curled up together, talking and laughing softly together. Though, Light wasn't sure that was any less traumatizing.

He ate breakfast. He went to class. He ate lunch. He went to class. Then, he went to dinner. It wasn't the same without C there at meals to make dumb jokes and eat far too many Cheerios. Someone he could actually be his scheming self around, someone who _wasn't L._ He'd stopped expecting C to suddenly snap out of his strange behavior, but that didn't mean he didn't wish he would.

He sat at a table alone. Normally, dinner was a time where he schmoozed, flirted with girls and showered everyone with his intelligence and graciousness. With an odd rumor about L thrown in once in a while. Today, though, he sat alone, flicking like files in his head over what he'd learned that day to make sure everything was still there. It was, so he wouldn't have to study much that night. This was good because he would much rather be brooding about that dream. For the first half of his day, he had tried hard to remember if there had been any breasts at all in it. When he'd accepted, reluctantly, that it had been a sausage fest, Light fell back on Plan B: making the person in his dream anyone but L. Dreaming about L once was a fluke. Twice... well, twice was a line segment. Any more than that, though, and he _might _have to start considering that there could be a pattern.

He shook this off. It was just because he was a developing boy who had never seen a woman naked but had been seeing a _lot_ of naked boys, lately.

As he finished that thought, the naked boys in question, clothed for the moment, appeared at his table and slid into seats across from him.

"K!" C said, putting his tray (cauliflower, cheese slices, and, of course, Cheerios) down loudly as a result of having only one hand free to manipulate it. B, the possessor of the other hand, was far more elegant despite being in a similar predicament.

"Hello," Light sighed.

"Good to see you!" he enthused. "Seems like it's been a while."

"Really? I feel like I've been seeing a lot of you, lately," Light replied mildly. Briefly, absurdly, he wished that L had been there to hear that jab. When he realized the thought he'd just had, he nearly stabbed himself in the eye with his fork as punishment for his brain.

C, however, didn't seem to notice. "We should hang out more," he said, eyes straying right back to B, smiling when he saw the frighteningly intense stare B was giving Light.

"Okay," Light agreed.

Maybe before, C would have noticed that, as he agreed, Light was hoping desperately that the day never came. The boy nodded cheerfully.

Light began to shovel in his dinner so that he could leave. When he next looked up, B and C were leaning close and whispering to each other. Light rolled his eyes and stooped low over his food to avoid seeing this. As soon as he was done, he grabbed his tray and popped to his feet. "See you later!" he said loudly.

"I was just telling C," B said suddenly at normal volume in his strange, lilting voice, "about the house next door to mine. My old house."

Light wondered if B was about to tell him that he intended to take C and fuck him there.

"Okay."

"It was old and abandoned. It looked okay on the outside, but on the inside it was dilapidated. Two stories, three bedrooms. You know the kind." B said nothing more, continuing to look intently at Light. Light shifted. He nearly asked if he could leave. "I used to play there a lot, as a child," B added. "I have a lot of good memories of that house. I would like to show C. Do you think Mr. Wammy would let us go there? I am sure it could use a good... cleaning."

C perked up at the "c" word.

Light, however, stared.

Had B just intentionally given him a clue?

* * *

After Light made his excuses, his mask of calm interest shattered. He needed... Google. Of all things, Google. He couldn't do it in his room; B could walk in. L had a computer! Repeating his idea to himself over and over in his head, on the extremely unlikely chance that he'd abruptly forget it, Light raced down the halls until he saw L's door. He didn't pause to knock- L already knew he was secretly rude, and L's roommate was rarely there—simply entering the room as if it were his own

"K-kun?" a startled L asked from where he was studying on his bed.

"Computer!" Light said frantically, gasping from his sprint, shaking the mouse violently to wake the thing up. It was, of course, password protected. Light grabbed the front of L's shirt and dragged him off the bed, nearly making him fall, before tossing him into the chair. "Open!" he demanded.

L, stunned and curious, tapped out his exceedingly long password with speed that satisfied even the impatient Light, who proceeded to fling L out of the chair and leap onto it.

"Next door!" he burst by way of explanation as L picked himself up off the floor.

"You will have to be slightly more specific, K-kun. And perhaps a complete sentence would-"

"B!" Light interrupted. "He, he just told me. Told me..." He had to get his breathing under control, but he was far too excited to pause and collect himself. "Told me that he liked this place, next door to his house. An abandoned house. Specifically said a _three bedroom _house, L, my _God_. Three bedrooms for three victims. And. And he."

L didn't need to ask Light to slow down. He was right there with him. "You have the address?"

The computer was _finally, finally_ booted up and Google Maps had decided to load. Light wracked his brain for the address of the Birthday house, which he had glanced at in the file. Triumphantly, his brain spat it out at him and he heatedly typed it in. After an agonizingly long time, the site provided a map.

"Look. Looklooklook." Light clicked 'print,' crying out when the printer complained of a lack of paper. He snatched the nearest piece off L's desk (an important essay, as it turned out, what a nice surprise) and crammed it into the printer to use the back of the page. He had the map a few moments later, then slammed it onto the floor, jumping down after it and smacking L's shin with the back of his hand, indicating that he should follow.

The moment L was squatting next to him, Light leapt up and grabbed a Sharpie off the desk and then dropped to the floor again, a mass of flailing energy. He frantically circled the Birthday house and the house next door about six hundred times.

"Okay," L said slowly.

Light circled another part of the map.

"The orphanage where the bodies were found."

Light drew a heavy line between the two points.

Cooperatively, L looked at it.

Light pointed at it a few times.

"A line."

"A _street_," Light corrected. "_One_ street. A straight shot between the Birthday household and the orphanage."

"So?"

"So, that's not really important. Except, that's way too far for anyone to carry three human corpses. Look at the scale on this map. No sleds, no walking. No public transport. So?"

"A car."

"But there would have been blood, impossible to truly clean that much blood out of a car. It would have been found by now. So?"

"He got rid of it."

Light grinned, just a bit manically, and looked at L in the eyes. "If you were going to dump a blood-drenched car somewhere between these two points, and if you wanted to go home after you dumped it..."

L looked at the map. Wordlessly, he pointed at a big blue splotch that was marked on it, just off the line of the street and about half a mile away from point A, the Birthday's house.

Light leaned back, satisfied. "Szerencsétlen Lake."

"Unlucky Lake," L translated.

Light's smug smile faded just a little. "In what language?"

"It's Hungarian."

"L," Light said, frowning deepening as some little memory tugged at the corner of his mind. "Weren't you born in Hungary?"


	24. Gas

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Lookit! Faster update! Cuz summer. Are you proud of me? XD **

**Warning: Blood and gore.**

* * *

L made a face, just slightly, so brief that Light almost didn't see it. Almost.

"Yes."

"And B knows this."

"Perhaps."

"How many lakes have Hungarian names, L?" Light demanded.

"Several in Hungary," he answered facetiously.

Light ignored this. "You're the only one I know who understand Hungarian. Other than Igloo. And you still think the message wasn't for you?"

"It's the only lake nearby. Where else would he have dumped it?" L snapped. Light raised an eyebrow. L stared at him, then raised his thumb to pluck at his lip, sending his eyes to the ceiling. "...I don't understand the message," he said more calmly. "It can't be for me."

Light considered him, his posture and his face and his voice, and L _seemed _sincere but what did Light really know about him? He was odd, he was brilliant, he ate sugar like it was going out of style, he wore the same thing every day, and he—mostly—didn't care what people thought of him. And he didn't care about justice any more than Light did.

Light was sure, however, that L hadn't committed the murders, so it was probably safe to continue working with him, whatever his motivation. "Well, let's tell Wammy and have him take us to the lake and the house," he said eventually.

To his surprise, L didn't relax at the change in subject. "Yes. Right."

* * *

It was only a matter of hours until they were at the lake. Wammy had driven them there, seeming unconcerned about whatever about the lake had bothered L. Light took a moment to appreciate his surroundings. The grounds at Wammy's House were beautiful, of course, but the students rarely got to leave until they were older, which Light most certainly wasn't. Wammy's had a pond, but this was a lake. A small man-made lake, but a lake. Light took a deep breath of fresh air, then tracked down L, who was squatting by a sandy area on the lake's bank. In the sunset, he actually had some color in his face, and all the sharp lines were softened, making him look gentle and almost human.

Light shook his head, hard, and squatted down next to him.

"Tire tracks," L said unnecessarily. "Covered up, but badly. Obviously this lake doesn't have much of a tide, or they'd be gone. Good if you're hoping the things you dump won't wash up on shore."

"Or much foot traffic, making it easier to dump a car without drawing attention."

L nodded. "We'll need to have the lake dragged."

They looked around for a bit but there was nothing further to be gleaned from that location, so they phoned someone who could get the car out of the lake, and proceeded to the next location.

* * *

Wammy, again, drove them, overtly pleased with their progress on the case and secretly pleased with their progress on being civil with each other. He remained near the car when they got out, keeping watch from the outside but ready to respond if they called for help.

The house next to the Birthday house, where supposedly B had spent his time as a child, was a warzone.

On the outside, it was merely shabby, with peeling paint, overgrown grass and dirt patches that used to be gardens and were now only weeds. A window was cracked, amazingly the only one that was, and the lawn was littered with shingles and curled, weathered siding. Other than appearing unlived in and bringing down the property value for nearby lots, the house, from the outside, was harmless.

_Inside_ was the warzone.

Light and L froze in the doorway, stunned by the sight that assaulted them the moment they opened the front door. Well-trained as they were, they hadn't seen many things in real life, except whatever circumstances they were in before coming to the House. And Light had never seen... or smelled... anything like this.

"Putrefaction," L reported, voice very even, trying to sound unaffected.

"Yes, thanks," Light snarked back with bravado. But neither of them were, initially, able to move.

The room in front of them was the foyer, which went directly to a sitting room, or what had once been a sitting room. At one time, there had been a carpet, which was now more like a rag, gnawed in many places by rats, one of which scuttled past at the opening of the door, skirting the piles of poop it and its brethren had left. There was wallpaper, too, curling off and revealing a healthy crop of mold. All the furniture, torn if it was fabric and simply filthy if it wasn't, was pushed against one wall and stacked haphazardly.

And everywhere, everywhere there was blood.

There was a big pool of it, right in the middle, dried and sticky, or it would have been sticky if they'd touched it. It was in nearly a perfect oval, which was startling in contrast to the splatters everywhere else: on the wallpaper and the mold and the ceiling and the rag of a carpet and the torn or filthy furniture.

The splatters were so evenly distributed that it could only have been intentional.

Light and L stared for significantly longer than either of them would be willing to admit, if asked.

"There are two ways to go," Light said, not taking his eyes off the scene in front of him. "Left looks like the kitchen and dining room, right looks like the stairs and bathroom."

"Yes," L said, monotone but several notes higher than usual. "Left first."

Walking a little stiffly, they crossed to the left side of the house. The dining room was untouched, except for a very few speckles of red. They followed these through the dining room and into the kitchen.

The blood in the kitchen was incidental instead of intentional, and Light couldn't decide if that made it harder or easier to look at. Possibly, he was becoming desensitized, because this time he didn't need to pause for more than a few seconds before he entered the room, careful not to step on any blood. Any tools that had been used, including the blender and knife, were long gone.

"Big, big puddle in the middle," he said, as if it needed saying. "And then here, next to it, assorted gore on the doors of the cabinets under the countertop, and the countertop itself. He plugged the blender in here," he pointed at an electrical outlet, "and cut his godfather open here."

"And scooped the innards into the blender."

Light tried to picture B digging his hands into a person's body, coming away with organs. It wasn't difficult to imagine. In fact, it was easier to imagine him doing it with a smile.

"How could it not have sloshed?" Light asked. "When he dragged him out of the kitchen. With his guts liquefied and put back in him."

"He must have put them back in later. Transported them in a container of some kind."

"Oh. Yes."

"Come along," L said. "Let's check upstairs."

Light stumbled after him, gripping his sleeve tightly until L twisted his hand to grasp Light's wrist. Linked in this way, they hurried past the sitting room then proceeded up the treacherous stairs.

"Hole."

"Thanks."

It was slow, but they survived the ascent. L glanced at Light and Light approached the door on their left. There was a towel in a heap in the corner of the hallway, near the door. He also noticed a hose running along the door frame and disappearing into the wall over the door. He couldn't see where the hose was coming from, but there was a small nozzle on it, pinching it closed. A quick glance confirmed that there were similar contraptions over the other two doors.

Hesitantly, checking over his shoulder for L, Light opened the door.

To his relief, there was less blood in this room, only some small splatters as if someone had been very badly beaten. The window was thoroughly boarded. It was likely the room where one of the Birthday parents had been killed. L padded into the room, shoes firmly on his feet for once, to examine the window more closely.

"Caulked shut, and all the way around," he announced. "And, of course, the window itself boarded over. No signs of any attempt to open it."

"Probably not locked in here for long, then. Maybe he drugged them and killed them quickly."

"Then no need to caulk the windows closed," L disagreed. He noticed something near the floor. "And look." He got down on his knees, avoiding the blood. "There's a hole drilled through this wall," L said from the floor, sticking his full fist into an opening that was in the wall, right above the floorboards. "It goes all the way outside."

"The hose outside this room," Light said, looking above the doorframe from inside the room to see the end of the hose protruding. "Gas."

"Gas," L agreed. He straightened up. "A heavy gas, that would start out high in the room and sink to the floor, where it would be vented through this hole. Either to knock them out, or kill them. Colorless and odorless, because the occupant of this room didn't try to break out of the window. Which was caulked so that none of the gas would escape except through the homemade vent."

"He pumped it in, waited, turned off the nozzle, waited, and then went in," Light concluded. "And it wouldn't have been hard to get his parents and godfather to follow him into these rooms. They wouldn't have suspected anything, must have known he played here. "

"Gas also explains the towels in the hallway. They're stiff but crumpled, as if they'd been wet and then dried out that way. He blocked the cracks under the doors with wet towels so he wouldn't be gassed."

"Don't you think the others would try to escape when they heard the sounds of the first one dying?"

"Not if he gassed them all before he killed one."

"So a long-acting knockout gas, but one that worked quickly enough to render the occupant of the room unconscious before venting out."

"And they were separate because..."

"If one passed out first, the others would panic. Three adults could have easily overwhelmed him if anything at all went wrong."

They both fell silent, glancing around the room. Light felt like his blood was buzzing; it felt amazingly good to be thinking like this, applying his skills, deducing. Gore and all. And he could admit that it was a pleasure to be doing it with someone as smart as him.

"We should check the other rooms," L said suddenly. When Light looked at him, L quickly turned around. "They'll be the same," he deadpanned, "but we should check."

The other rooms were, in fact, the same, except for one that had no blood in it.

"That's why he disemboweled him in the kitchen," Light said. "The electrical outlets in these rooms are old. They only have two holes, and a blender that would be up to such a large task would need a ground. So, a three-hole plug. So it had to be the kitchen, he couldn't just do it here."

Next, they tracked the hoses. Their path took them past the sitting room again, which Light looked at with less anxiety, now. "This is too much blood for three people," he pointed out. "Even if he killed them and _then_ dragged them all over the house. His parents wouldn't have bled this much from their wounds. And the disemboweled guy had most of his guts and blood with him."

"There will be another victim in the car, then."

They found the end of the hose in the bathroom, rigged to a smallish canister.

Light stared at it.

L stared at Light.

"I could swear I've seen this before," Light mused. He looked up to frown at L, who was chewing on his lip. Probably he would be chewing on his thumb except for the environment they were in and the things they'd been touching. "Have you?"

L hummed noncommittally, getting closer to the canister to read it. "I doubt you've seen it. It's a rare chemical."

A vein twitched in Light's temple. "And you have?"

"Yes." But he didn't sound smug about it.

"Where, then? If it's so rare."

L bit down hard on his lip, wishing for his thumb.

"It's what Wammy used when he kidnapped me."


	25. Kidnapping and Murder

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Light and L sat in utter silence on the ride back to Wammy's House.

As soon as L had said what he'd said about kidnapping, he had shut down, appearing completely lost in thought and utterly unresponsive to Light's attempts to rouse him, even when the attempts devolved to smacking him upside the head. He hadn't even blinked at that, until Light, furious, had hauled him up by the front of his shirt, dragged him out of the house, and stuffed him into Wammy's car, snapped his seat belt into place, then climbed in next to him, growling at Wammy to drive. Wammy had, with little more than a raised eyebrow.

By the time they got back to the House, Light was boiling. The moment the car stopped, he dragged L back out of it. They got many strange looks in the hallway but for once, Light didn't care. He threw L into his bedroom and slammed the door behind them. As usual, L's roommate was elsewhere.

"L!" Light snapped. "Talk to me!"

L pumped some hand sanitizer onto his hands, rubbed for a while, then chewed on his thumb.

"L!"

He bit off a piece of fingernail and flicked it absently away from himself.

"You can _not_ just drop a bomb like that and then go off into your head! What do you mean, Mr. Wammy _kidnapped you_?!" He smacked the back of L's head again.

This earned a glare from L. "Stop hitting me." He lashed back with a foot, but Light stepped out of the way in time, giving him a matching glare.

"Then. Tell. Me. What's. Going. On!" he demanded, punctuating each word with a smack.

"Fine! Stop it!"

Light sat down daintily on L's bed, crossing his legs and folding his hands pointedly, the picture of civility and patience.

L rolled his eyes. He sighed as if this entire conversation were a bother. "Wammy kidnapped me when I was two years old."

"L! And you completely failed to mention this before-"

L held up a hand. "I went willingly. But legally, he kidnapped me."

Light's mouth opened but no words came out, at first. "...He really kidnapped you."

L nodded.

"But you wanted him to."

L nodded again.

"Could you give me a little more than that?"

"When I was little," L said, "It was discovered that I tested off the charts. My parents did not react well to this. They were obsessed with the ordinary, and it bothered them immeasurably that I wasn't. It got into their heads that they could beat it out of me, I suppose. Mr. Wammy was involved with intelligence testing, then. It's how he started finding students for the House. He heard about me, but I wasn't an orphan so he came only to interview me. When he saw the conditions I was living in, which were not good, he asked if I wanted to leave. I did. He came back later and got me."

"And your parents?"

"I think they were relieved, but I wouldn't know. The last time I saw them, they were face down on the floor from the gas we found today, snoring. And," he added, "as I can now tell you, I'm from France. Not Hungary."

"Then why do you know Hungarian?"

L gave him a look that was a mixture of horror and confusion. "I learned it?"

Oh. Right. "And the gas. Do we learn about it in one of our classes? Maybe chemistry? Because I know I've seen it before."

"No. It's not even on the market."

"Then how did Wammy get it?"

"He invented it." There may have been a note of pride in his voice. "For my abduction. It's undetectable in the body, that's why it wasn't in the autopsy."

Light's frown deepened. "He..." In a rush, he remembered years and years ago, his adventure with the trap door in Wammy's office, with A. He'd found a table full of chemistry glassware and chemicals. And he'd seen this chemical there, and _that _was how he recognized it.

"I saw it in Wammy's lab," he reported, relieved that the nagging in his brain was gone, leaning back against the side of L's bed.

"...You've been to his lab?"

"Is that envy?" Light shot back innocently.

"Where is it?"

"None of your business."

"But obviously it's _your_ business."

"Obviously."

L huffed.

Light smirked.

L's gaze lingered for a long moment, then he looked elsewhere.

There was a strange silence.

"So," Light said after a long time, oddly hesitant, but when he spoke he found the tension gone. "Today we learned how B did it, and where, but we still can't prove it was him, unless a forensics team finds DNA evidence in the house or car."

"Then we must hope for that," L agreed.

* * *

That night, Light went to study in the library again. An hour or so later, so did L, and they sat across from each other, silent as the grave.

* * *

They didn't have to wait long for the forensics report, considering how seriously the case was being taken. Everyone involved in solving it was starting to look stupid, so the police were keen to get help and have it over with as soon as possible. The Public Relations sector was on the verge of departmental transfer.

So, it was only the next day, though late in the evening, that Wammy approached them with results.

A had been helping Light with his math assignment, the only area he was actually better than Light (and L) in, and Light was a bit reluctant to accept someone tutoring him but he was so pleased to see some color in A's face, for once, that he put up with it. A was easier to be with than L. Also, he _wasn't L._

Also it meant getting to be in A's room. But that was really only a passing thought, of course.

A was patiently explaining a formula for the third time when Mr. Wammy knocked politely on the door. "A?"

"Come in."

Mr. Wammy opened the door, smiling as usual. "Hello A, K. It's convenient that you're both here; you have saved me a trip and, no doubt, an unpleasant viewing experience in K's room. Would you please follow me?"

It was the first time Light had seen Mr. Wammy since L's explanation, and he didn't know how it changed how he felt about him. Or, really, if it should change anything at all. It wasn't out of character for Wammy to go out of his way to help someone, and Light could imagine him with a slightly... spunky... side. And L had gone willingly. Then again, he'd been two years old and hardly at the age of consent. Then again, again, he'd still been _L._

It was automatic for him to follow Wammy's orders, however, so although Light was unsure he followed him and A to wherever Wammy was taking them, which turned out to be L's room.

He didn't enter the room, he never entered students' rooms, but after ushering Light and A into it and checking that L's roommate wasn't present, Wammy said, "I gathered you because I didn't wish to repeat myself. I hope you understand. The police have had the lake dragged and they've sent a forensics team to the house. A car, lacking any registration, was found, as you anticipated. There was a large knife, a bucket, and a blender in the car. Nowhere in the house or the car were there any fingerprints. At all. There were also no hairs or other cast offs that would indicate the perpetrator. The 'blood' in the front room, in both the pool on the floor and the splatters on the walls, was actually paint. Cans of paint, and brushes, were also found in the car." He paused. "I'm sorry, boys, but this is a dead end. You did very well, but the police are insisting that this be taken out of media spotlight. You are off the case."

Light, L, and A stared at him in disbelief.

It was L who spoke up. "We're off the case?" he demanded, standing as Wammy was halfway out the door.

The old man stopped, blinking at him. "It's unlike you to repeat what has just been said, L," he said, a bit firmly.

"Yes, sir, but-"

"Was any part of my statement unclear?"

"No, sir."

"Very well." His sharp look softened. "If you do find that you have questions at a later time, you are of course welcome stop by my office. Until then, I have things to attend to. Good evening, boys."

And just like that, after months and months, they were off the case.

Stunned, L sat back down on his chair.

For a long time, they were all silent. Light was calculating how much time he'd utterly wasted on this case, and more prominently, how he could get B out of his life without it. He was startled by L's sudden announcement.

"Get out."

Light and A both stood immediately, more than happy to obey this order, and hurried towards the door.

"Just A."

They both stopped. "Excuse me?" Light demanded.

"I know you're in love with him K-kun but I was given to understand that such maladies do not affect one's ability to hear instructions."

Light whipped around to face A. "I'm not in love with you," he said firmly. He spun back around to L. "We're supposed to be working on this _together_. All three of us. Or we were. Anything you can say to me, you can say to him!"

"Not this." L locked his eyes on A. "Please leave, A."

A imitated a fish for a few seconds, then rushed out of the room.

"What is _wrong _with you!" Light demanded. "Everyone already knows you're smarter than him, so what are you even trying to prove?"

Furious, he stomped to L's door and ripped it open.

"_K_," came L's voice from behind him, and Light, despite himself, paused. He didn't look back at him.

"What?" he asked huffily.

"If Wammy would kidnap me..." L said, voice as close to unsure as Light had heard it in years of acquaintanceship. "Then maybe... _maybe_... he would..."

Light stood in the door for several moments, silent. Then he looked over his shoulder at L. His face was impassive, but he saw real emotion in the bottomless black eyes.

He turned back, and left to go find A.


	26. Along Came Sally

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

It was infinitely strange, being off the case. Off The Case. _Off the case_. Even the words were oddly difficult to digest. It wasn't sitting right with Light. It had been a huge part of his everyday life for so long, and now it was just over, and he didn't know what to do with his meager free time. He hung out with A a bit, but A was sad. It seemed like he was always sad. Sometimes, Light could get him to laugh or crack a smile, but it never lasted very long, and A tended to scurry away afterwards, ostensibly to go study.

So, Light had spent several days just floating around, going to class, studying, and being polite to people. He visited Sayu, took her around for a few hours and doted on her to appear to be a loving big brother. He was ranked first that week, engaged in some obligatory face-rubbing with L, who had seemed unaffected.

L had been quiet. Unless he was being snarky, L was _usually_ quiet, but now he was quiet all the time. In fact, Light hadn't heard him say a word in several days. He didn't volunteer answers in class, didn't correct people, and didn't have comebacks for Light when Light tried to pick fights with him.

And, always, on both of their minds was the idea that it was possible, that it wasn't beyond the realm of things that could happen, that it answered a lot of questions really, that it was logical that _maybe_, possibly, Wammy had killed B's family, as he'd taken L away from his.

The situations were different, so as always Light pushed these thoughts out of his mind. Kidnapping and murder were drastically different, for one thing. For another, there was no evidence that the Birthdays had mistreated B, until L and his parents. B was much older, while L had been two years old. Aside from the gas and potential motive, there was no reason to believe that Wammy had done it.

But that _gas._

It didn't look like L was having the same luck banishing the thoughts. Everyone respected Wammy (except E, but E was rather strange and hated everyone but Light, anyway), but it was common knowledge that L was his biggest fan. Though L was never loud about it, his feelings towards Wammy were very much like that of a child to his father. Light knew that L trusted Wammy, and only Wammy, implicitly. As reluctant as Light was to empathize or attach any human characteristics to L, he understood that having Wammy implemented must be difficult for L, especially as he was the one doing the implementing.

Light was still suspicious of B. He kept as much space between them as possible, which unfortunately was not, often, very much space at all. It turned out that this day, two weeks exactly after Light's removal from the case, was one of them.

Light had been walking to class. He was actually with A, for once, so he was happy, chatting away and trying to get A to contribute a few words now and then, as well. He was just loosening up a bit when a small commotion was heard from behind them.

Gossip spread deliciously quickly in Wammy's House due to the size and no one ever wanted to be the last to know something. Light grinned at A and they hurried over to the source of the noise, entirely abandoning the idea of getting to class on time (even A!).

The scene had already attracted a good-sized crowd and, unsurprisingly, B and C were two of the main players. C was bright red, all the way to the tips of his ears, and a few feet away stood B, pinning a teenage girl Light didn't recognize to the wall with his forearm. His eyes were locked on hers and cold as death. She was cowering and in tears, but she seemed incapable of looking away from B's eyes.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't know. _Really_, I... I didn't..."

B's eyes narrowed and he pressed her harder into the wall. She sobbed, trying to put more space between them but utterly prevented. B said nothing.

C's eyes were, as always, on B, and while he was still red as a beet and looked petrified, he was gazing at B as if he were the resurrected Christ.

Light sidled in next to someone. "What's going on?" he asked as the girl started apologizing again.

The student leaned his head towards him without looking away from the little drama. "That's a girl from the other orphanage, the normal kids. I heard her name is Sally. She kissed C!"

Light glanced over at A who was wide-eyed, then back at the embarrassed C, the furious B, and the terrified Sally. "In front of B?"

"Well they're never apart. I saw them go to the bathroom together last week. Like, _together_. I guess Sally thought they were just friends..."

Light looked at A again. They should probably do something, maybe intervene. Light had a reputation as the defender of justice to uphold, after all. He could- and should- go over there and tell B to leave her alone, maybe pull him off. He should calm Sally down and then have her explain herself more clearly. It wouldn't work, but it would make Light look really good.

He should do that.

His feet, though, were glued to the floor, and it wasn't an option. He knew B would make him regret it, if he did.

It turned out he didn't have to.

"B," C said in a low, heated voice.

B turned his head to look at him.

C's eyes never left B's for a second, and when he spoke again his voice was thick with arousal. "Come here."

B stared at him for a moment longer, then he dropped the girl. So fast that Light entirely missed the movement, C threw himself across the small distance between them and B caught him, slamming their lips together instantly, C's hands twisting into B's hair so hard it must have hurt. Sally used the opportunity to run like hell.

Several members of the crowd took a few steps back. Light was so used to this sight that it almost didn't register with him, and while no one had _not _seen them snog, only Light had ever seen quite this level of it. Everyone dispersed, including the gaping and blushing A, and hurried off to class.

B and C were not in class.

Light didn't even bother trying to go back to his room that night.

* * *

So now, L was quiet, A was sad (also traumatized), C's throat was nearly uniformly covered with little red marks, and B was _pissed_. The circle of people Light had the most interaction with were all very tense (except for C), and B was more possessive than ever, and Light was pretty sure that something was going to happen, and soon.

That Thursday at 'family dinner,' he was proven right.

Light was sitting next to A. He sighed as the other boy fidgeted. "You can stop studying for half an hour, you know," he reminded him. "Everyone does, so you're not falling behind."

A forced a smile. "Yeah, but I just feel like..." His sentence faded off and his eyes went wide, fixed entirely on one area behind Light's shoulder.

Slowly, slightly afraid of what he would find, Light turned around and followed A's gaze to see...

Well, the polite way to phrase it was "C on his knees," but since C and B weren't exactly being polite at the moment Light felt comfortable calling it "C sucking B off in the middle of family dinner."

By now, everyone had noticed, and the room was hushed outside of the occasional wet slurping sounds and small noises of encouragement from B.

Light had seen this before, of course, but not in the cafeteria, and not sitting next to A, and not—

"Roger," a very little kid asked in the silence. "What is C doing to B?"

L, apparently unaffected, explained, "C is performing oral sex on B."

This broke the silence. In moments, Wammy and Roger were on their feet and to B and C, Roger grabbing C by the collar (there was an audible 'pop') and Wammy grabbing B practically by the neck. When each began dragging one boy in the opposite direction, B began to fight like a tiger, all teeth and nails and cursing and _growling_ and flailing and squirming to the point that Wammy was struggling to hold him. He and Roger, who was holding a weeping C— not crying, Light noted, actually weeping- exchanged quick looks, then Roger nodded.

Wammy's sleeves were torn, now, and visibly a bit bloody with at least one steadily-dripping bite that was deeper than the others. To his credit, he didn't show a sign of this on his face. The instant he began to drag B in the direction of C and Roger, B stopped fighting. C's anguished cries, previously comparable to a mother who had lost her child, slowed considerably.

Now that C wasn't screaming and B wasn't trying to skin Wammy alive with his teeth, the room was again dead silent.

Without a word, Wammy and Roger shifted their grips to each child's upper arm, and when the four of them were near each other at the door, they dragged the boys out and away.

But together.

For a second, the silence was absolute. Then Light said, "I'll do it," and there was a chorus of agreement, followed immediately by an explosion of discussion.

Light leapt up to follow, and was annoyed to see L doing the same. He couldn't start anything, though, not in front of everyone and not once they were in the hallway for fear of alerting Roger and Wammy. So, besides giving him a glare, Light didn't complain.

Together, Light and L crept down the halls, silent, going where they hoped Roger and Wammy had taken B and C— Wammy's office.

They were right. The door was thick, but when they pressed their ears against it they could hear enough to piece it together.

First, Wammy's deep, calm voice, tightened by anger.

"If neither of you will start, I will," he said firmly. "_Why_," heavily, "did you do that."

He must have been glaring at C, because Light heard the extremely-familiar voice next.

"He asked me to."

Light felt like he could see C's shrug.

A pause during which Wammy probably exhaled slowly.

"B," Roger's voice came through, a little nasally. "Why did you ask C to do that?"

"Because it is an enjoyable activity," B said.

"Yes, it is, aren't you clever?" Roger snapped, voice rising. "Why did you ask C to do that _in the cafeteria_?!"

No response, at least not verbal, because the next person to speak was Wammy.

"Never again," he said, voice cold as ice. "I don't care if you do things like this in private. But if you _ever_ do this again in front of the other children, _especially the young children,_ I _will_ take it upon myself to bring about consequences you cannot, at the moment, imagine." His tone left absolutely no doubt that this was the truth.

"Okay," C said after a beat. Light couldn't see his face to know if he meant it or not.

"And you?" Wammy said, presumably indicating B.

"Very well," B replied immediately, voice calm.

"Good," Roger cut in. "Now go. _Don't_ return to dinner."

Light and L glanced at each other and quickly bolted for the cafeteria before the door could be opened. L, apparently uninterested in sharing the gossip in the traditional way, turned in the direction of his bedroom. Light, however, knew his duty, and arrived at the still-full cafeteria with, he calculated, two minutes to report the news, before Roger and Wammy would return.


	27. Closets

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: I am on break! And so! CHAPTER! And apologies. And assurances that I do know where this fic is going and won't stop working on it.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend Robin, who watched all of Death Note (in three days! You can imagine the psychological consequences) without me even asking, for the express purpose of reading my fanfics. Aww.**

* * *

It didn't get better.

Months passed, and almost weekly, there was something happening. Light knew he'd been pretty young, and still was, but he was sure that it hadn't been like this before, but now it was, and the only variable Light could think of was B.

Wammy, true to his word, had kept his mouth shut on any new details of _the case_. Even at the weekly special class, there was no mention of it, as if it had never existed, except that Light could never forget what he'd seen and any day he didn't see the blood-covered kitchen when he closed his eyes, he did see B. It was easy, so easy, to imagine B covered in blood, reaching into his godfather's corpse and scooping out his intestines. But that wasn't proof, and they weren't allowed to leave the House, and short of a confession from B there was nothing Light could do but go to class. So he did. Class was brutal, as usual, and cases for the top three students (plus C who still always sat in), either real or imagined, kept coming in. For two weeks in a row, after the day they'd examined the Birthday house, L came in second. After that, it was back to changing almost weekly, like some kind of dance, where A fell further and further behind...

Every week, there was something new, something that a paranoid mind could easily trace back to B. Once, it was little Igloo, dragged out of his igloo in the middle of the night, snow stuffed down his trousers and inventively tied to the top of his igloo by someone it was too dark for him to recognize. Another week it was a string of people tripping, seemingly on nothing, but that didn't mean it was B who had tied up the fishing wire in the hallway and dropped several dozen tacks on the floor around it. Another week, it was a girl sitting in a corner, crying, refusing to say what was wrong and why she absolutely wouldn't move from that corner, not til the next afternoon at 1:13. Another week, it was A crammed into an out-of-the-way broom cupboard and the door locked from the outside, and not found for two days.

Things like that. Not good things, worrisome things that had people on-edge and mistrustful. With his world like this, Light turned 11, and there was a small party thrown for him, which was nice. As possibly the best gift imaginable, A's roommate graduated, and Light marched right up to Wammy (murderer? Or just kidnapper?) and demanded to be transferred, which he instantly was.

_That _was better. While A still barely talked, and while since the closet incident he didn't really eat much and Light had to bring him food if he wanted him to, at least Light didn't have to fall asleep to the sounds of boys moaning, anymore.

B's poor roommate marched up to Wammy with a similar request, and then B and C were officially living together, and no one got within six feet of their door unless they absolutely had to.

Light had been twelve for three weeks, and so far, 12 was better than 11. He was eating lunch with J, who he knew still fancied him, and it wasn't hard to smile at her, lean towards her in his seat, take food off her plate and pop it in his mouth with a big, boyish grin. She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder.

"It's a buffet, you know," she teased. "If you want more carrots you can easily go and get them."

"I could, but these are yours, and that makes them taste better." He ate another one and she blushed a bit.

"But I had the perfect number of carrots," she pretended to huff. "You're throwing it all off."

C walked by, holding a plate stacked impossibly high with carrots with one hand and B's fingertips with the other. Light carefully kept his eyes leveled on J. He smiled again. "Here's the deal. I'll go get more carrots, give them to you, and then I'll steal them back one by one. That way we're both happy."

J was saying something, but now L was shuffling by and Light utterly failed at keeping his eyes on J.

"You don't need to lose weight, you look beautiful the way you are," Light said when J stopped talking. L was getting further away, but turned to head for a table and instead his eyes met Light's, and he watched him back as he sat down alone, incidentally in a chair that faced Light.

"Um," J said awkwardly, seeing this, "I didn't say anything about losing weight..."

It must have been one of L's food-eating days, because he was holding a fork between his thumb and forefinger and spearing beans, eating them and looking sad about it, though he only glanced down at his plate before affixing his gaze back on Light's. "Good, I won't hear of it, women look best when they're healthy."

J blinked at him, then turned around in her seat to follow Light's eyes. She found L at the end of it, and traced L's intent stare back to Light. "Uh..."

Light blinked and tore his eyes away from L. He realized that, out of context, two people staring at each other across a room would seem a bit odd, maybe like they liked each other or something, which Light and L very, very much didn't. So, to save face, he looked back at J and said, "Wow, sorry. He's just been staring at me all the time, lately."

J sat back in her seat normally. "Well, he does stare a lot, though it's usually at the ceiling."

Light nodded. "We're sort of rivals, you know of course, so we used to glare at each other across rooms, and it was pretty normal. But lately he's just been sort of... staring." He shrugged. "I don't know."

A slow smile was spreading across J's face. "Maybe he likes you," she said, leaning over the table and lowering her voice so that only Light would hear.

Light pulled a face. "I mean, he's a good person, really bright, even though he cheated for a bit, you remember."

She nodded.

"But I just don't think... well, then again, he did say once..."

J was utterly hooked. She put both hands on the table. "You have _got _to finish that sentence, K."

Light pretended to be shy, but inside he was preening. "I shouldn't. It was something he told me in confidence, I don't think he even really meant to say it..."

J was the biggest gossip in the school, she just didn't know it. "What? What what what?" She grabbed Light's arm. "I won't tell a soul, you know me."

"Well..." He looked at her, as if he were thinking about it.

"I didn't tell _anyone _what you said in the library that one time, remember? About why we can't be together?"

Possibly the only secret she'd ever managed to keep in her entire life. He nodded. "Alright. But you can't tell anyone, okay?"

She nodded enthusiastically and put her hands back on her lap, the picture of attention.

Light leaned close to her. In a quiet voice, he said, "Well, he's gay. So I guess it's not impossible that he might, you know. Like me."

"You know, I heard that rumor a while ago," she said, eyes alight. "You think he really is?"

"That's what he said." He sat up and looked at her sternly. "But that doesn't change anything, okay? He's still the same person and even if I obviously can't return those feelings, it doesn't make them bad."

She nodded. "Right. Of course."

He nodded back and smiled at her. He took her hand. "Thanks. That was weighing really heavily on my mind, I needed to tell someone. I feel bad for him." He looked back over her shoulder in time to find L glancing up at him again, and then he looked back at J. He squeezed her hand. "You've always been such a good friend to me."

She tittered, and babbled a bit, and Light waited for lunch to be over so that he could get away from her.

* * *

Within three days, the entire school 'knew' that L was gay, and there was talk of the rumor having gone around before and if it was going around again it was almost definitely true. Light was pleased. L seemed indifferent.

Light continued to be pleased until he went to his room, at the end of the third day, to find A glaring at him.

He blinked at him. "What?"

"You're an ass," A reported, leaning back in his chair and glaring at Light who stood in their doorway. It was probably the most forcefully A had spoken in a year.

"Um..."

"You're an ass." He crossed his arms and Light got distracted for a moment by how _green _his eyes were. God, those were just really green eyes, and apparently they got even prettier when A was mad at him.

When Light didn't say anything, A continued, "You started that rumor about L."

How did he- "No I didn't," Light denied.

"I know you did."

"Why do you think I did?"

"Because J told everyone but wouldn't reveal her source, except to say that '_her source_,'" he did air quotes, "had heard it directly from L."

Right.

"So that's either Wammy, or you, and for some reason I just don't think it's Wammy..."

Light rolled his eyes and came into the room properly, closing the door and putting his bag in its place by his bed. "So what, he doesn't seem to care."

"You don't know that."

"I'm pretty certain he doesn't care. Like 99 percent." He sat down on his bed and started to fish out his homework.

A simply swiveled his desk chair to face him. "You don't even know if he _is _gay."

"He's twelve, _he_ probably doesn't even know if he's gay."

"Oh," A said, snorting, "because you have to be an adult to know you're different?" He looked at Light pointedly.

"Why do you care?" Light dodged. "You don't like L any more than I do."

"Sure," A agreed easily, "but that doesn't mean I'm not irritated when you go around saying he's gay like it's a stigma, when plenty of people here are gay, including, oh, _you_."

Light gaped at him.

A waited, eyebrows raised and arms still defiantly crossed.

"I'm not-"

A scowled at him.

Light shut up.

A continued waiting.

Finally, Light said, "I'm really not-"

The scowl deepened.

Light realized he was holding his pencil so tightly that it was in danger of snapping. He quickly loosened his grip and relaxed his posture and forced himself to calm down. "Fine," he said primly. "I'll send around a counter-rumor."

A studied him, making sure he wasn't lying. Light knew he was too caught off-guard to be able to fool someone who knew him as well as A did. Normally, yes, but...

"Good," A said after he'd decided that Light was serious. "I'd say apologize to him, too, but I do know when a cause is lost." He stopped abruptly and looked down at the textbook he'd been furiously studying. He closed it slowly and looked back up at Light. "You'll do it?" he asked, voice sounding slightly more like his own. Quieter.

Light nodded. He grabbed up his books. "I'm going to study in the library," he said prissily. "Have fun flunking that quiz tomorrow."

A looked up at him, hurt, and made himself chuckle. "Yeah, sure, I'll get right on that."

Light stomped out of their room.


	28. Whittling

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: A short chapter, because it's being posted the same day as the previous one, because I realized I had a little more juice in me and wrote it! **

* * *

Light and L very rarely spoke when they sat in the library together at night, but Light certainly didn't intent to speak to him that night. He could tell from the way L was looking at him that he knew Light had been the one to start the rumor, but he didn't seem to care. That didn't matter much, because Light's goal wasn't to drive L to suicide or something, it was just to make sure no one liked him and instead adored Light. Actually, if L killed himself, that would be pretty upsetting, really. Because L was his greatest competitor, and without him, he'd be alone in a room with B, C, and A, and that just seemed... complicated.

Light looked up from his book, up at L. The library was quiet, and dim except where they were sitting next to the lamps, the only ones that were on. L was reading at his usual impossible speed, turning pages with his two fingers, incredibly inefficient and looking, as ever, uncomfortable, propped up in his chair. As he had a knack for doing, he looked up when he felt Light's eyes on him, and simply stared back at him.

Light opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Yes, K-kun?" L asked quietly, although there was no need to be quiet as they were the only ones in the library.

"Nothing." Light licked his lips and looked back down at his book. It just wasn't very interesting. Well, it was chemistry, so actually it was very interesting, but somehow it seemed like looking up and staring at the weird creature across from him was more important. He kept his eyes down, though, and read the words, repeating lines over and over and hoping L didn't notice.

"You're repeating the same line over and over," L observed as if bored. "Does K-kun have something on his mind, perhaps?"

Light shook his head.

"Possibly, guilt?"

Light closed his eyes briefly, then looked back up at him. "Why. Should I feel guilty?"

"I am given to understand that most people do, when they do something morally wrong."

"There's nothing wrong with being gay," Light said with a little more force than he meant to.

"I don't believe I said there was."

"Well."

"And yet, it is a demographic of person- a demographic to which you belong- that you use to attempt to hurt the reputation of others, to whom it may or may not also apply."

For the love of God, why was everyone on about that, today? Light huffed. "Your psychology class is doing things to you."

"So do you feel guilty, or not?"

"No," he shot back stubbornly.

L flipped a few pages in his textbook, then held it up and turned it around for Light to view.

"Antisocial personality disorder," Light read out loud, voice flat.

L nodded.

"You realize that you're not entitled to diagnose people just because you've taken some psychology."

"Who said I was diagnosing you?" L innocently asked the ceiling, putting his book back on his lap and looking far too pleased with himself.

Light rubbed his face. "Look, I don't _not _feel guilty because I have no conscience or something." Probably. "I just haven't done anything wrong. You brought this on yourself years ago. All's fair in love and war."

L's eyes slid down from the ceiling to bore into Light's. "And which is this?"

Light dropped his textbook. He reached down for it but missed and had already jumped to his feet before he had time to try and reach for it again. He grabbed all his other books and stooped to finally collect the fallen one. "Time for bed," he said as naturally as possible. "See you tomorrow."

He scurried back to his room before L could reply.

* * *

When Light returned there, he found A sitting on his bed, doing something on a tray on his lap. A glanced up at him. "Hey."

Light exhaled. "Hey." Looked like they were fine. He could still be angry, but L had a way of resetting Light's priorities. He sat down on his own bed, putting his books down, and watched A do what looked like whittling. "New hobby?"

A shrugged. "W plays bassoon and she needs reeds, so."

"Reed making," Light said drily. "The way to every woman's heart."

A stopped the careful scrapes with the sharp reed knife and put it down. "Yeah," he sighed. "I know it's hopeless. Look, K, about what I said before..."

Light shrugged.

"No. I shouldn't have said it." He put the tray aside to look at Light fully. "It's not my business. And I do think you were wrong to go spreading rumors about L, but you're my best friend. I shouldn't have pushed it, or. You know, outed you."

Light shrugged again, uncomfortably. "It's fine. I know you've been..." Light searched for the word, "stressed."

A laughed once, without humor. "Yeah. Stressed."

"I mean..."

"Fed up?" A countered, raising his eyebrows and leaning back more against his headboard. "With. This school, the ranks, that case." He waved his hand to indicate all of it. "With how none of the three people who'll become the world's next greatest detective, actually give a damn about justice." Light opened his mouth, but A interrupted, "L's just bored and you're just smart and vain, and B's just crazy." Light couldn't argue with that. "With my own head." A knocked on his forehead with his knuckles. "It's loud in there. And I'm so smart, K, anywhere else I'd be the best in the room, but compared to you and L I'm an idiot." He dropped his arm and shook his head. "I'm tired of the food, and the schedule, and 'family' dinners, and I'm mad at my parents, and I'm furious that the one thing I'm really, really good at is math, and I _hate _math. I'm mad that I lost W two years ago and that I'm not over her and that I sat here for two hours just now making reeds for her just in case I could win her back. And I hate that the whole time, all I could think about was that I should be studying, as if it could possibly make a difference at this point. I'm just... always, always studying, I never do anything else, and it never makes any difference..."

Light sat quietly as A cleared his throat and blinked a few times.

"I'm just tired. I'm sixteen years old, and I'm tired, and that's so pathetic and it makes me hate everything even more, for doing this to me, and myself, for being just... too weak for it." He shook his head hard. "I couldn't even break out of a closet I got locked into, when I didn't know for sure that anyone would find me in time."

There, that, Light could say something about that. "We'll get B back for that," he promised. "We can start working on some sort of plan to-"

"Thanks," A interrupted. He shook his head. "But no. It's gonna be fine."

Light nodded slowly. "Alright. Well..." That was just a lot of feelings, and Light didn't know what he was supposed to do with them, and he sort of needed to study.

A tossed the textbook for the class they had together, onto the bed in front of Light. "Study up," he said, getting off his bed. "I'm taking the night off. I'm going to get dinner, and then I'm going to find W and see if I can't get a big, wet kiss out of her for these reeds. And then I'm going to sleep a solid eight hours." He nodded.

Light smiled, relaxing. "Alright. See you."

"See you."

A left.


	29. Exit, A

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Warning: Canon compliance with a particular character...**

* * *

The rumor mill was, as ever, strong in Wammy's House, so Light didn't even have to wait to talk to A to know that A had not managed to get his 'big, wet kiss' from W in exchange for bassoon reeds. That was sad for him, but Light hoped it wasn't really surprising. She'd been remarkably cold to A ever since A had accidentally stood her up. Which, yes, Light _did _remember, was totally his doing. They'd had tests and rankings, and Light had been first, and L had been second, then B, then a few other people, and then A. That one day of studying was, after all, pretty important, though Light was proud of A for just throwing it to the wind for once.

He wasn't at dinner, so Light returned to their room with a plate full of foods that A liked. "Hey, A," Light called, tossing their door open, wincing at the rhyme. "I have-"

A was in bed, presumably starting his sleep marathon (the blinds were even drawn), so Light instantly dropped his voice, stopping the hand that was partway through the motion of turning on the lights. "Sorry," he whispered. A groaned a little. "Sorry, sorry..." He closed the door behind himself and now it was nearly pitch black in their room, but at least it would stop A complaining about the light. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Light changed his clothes, nearly killing himself on a stray article of clothing that hooked around his foot. Still doing his best to creep along the sometimes-squeaky floor, Light slid into bed and under his covers, wriggling deep into them in comfort, feeling his spine decompress from his stressful day.

He was tired. He'd stayed up late the night before, studying, so the room being totally dark and sleep-ready was actually welcomed. It was the weekend, so he didn't need to study. He could just sleep for hours and hours...

Light rolled over in his bed, pretending he wasn't looking at A's silhouette in the darkness. Obviously, Light just liked to sleep on his side, and was not the kind of person who watched people sleep. He'd admitted to C years ago—when they'd still been friends—that he had feelings for A. And then two separate people today had said he was gay. Well, if he was, he felt like A was a pretty damn good choice, straightness aside. Even though A had been so twitchy as of late, he really was, like he said, Light's best friend. He'd stepped up to the plate when C had jumped ship. Now the only two people in the House that Light was even remotely genuine with, were A and L. And L was his arch-enemy, so.

Occasional emotional breakdown aside, A was a really good guy. Light wasn't certain he had feelings for him (though he was pretty close to certain, probably so close to sure that there wasn't a practical difference), but he _did_ notice, reluctantly, as he imagined he could see the boy breathe in the darkness, that his heart was... maybe... above resting rate, from looking at him.

It was this dangerous line of thinking which carried Light off to sleep.

* * *

Light awoke later than usual, although he didn't realize it at first. For a pleasant moment, he stretched and idled under the covers, reveling in the uniquely-perfect temperature of sheets warmed by one's own body all night. When it occurred to him that the room was quite brightly lit and he might already be late for his usual weekend activities of schmoozing and pretending he loved his sister, Light tipped his head back to look at his clock...

It was almost noon!

Light, suddenly wide-awake, sprang to his feet and was halfway across the room to his closet when he noticed...

He froze. Light had stopped dead many times in his life, startled or horrified or unsure, and he had often thought of it as "freezing." As he was now discovering, however, he had previously not understood what it was really like to be so shocked, horrified, and afraid that he truly couldn't move, even if he had wanted to. Probably, even if his life had depended on it.

Because A was white and his sheets... his sheets were...

There was so much red that for a moment, Light couldn't understand what he was looking at. Red, red, red, dark, dry, white face, brown hair, silver reed knife (oh god), and... white paper?

Hands shaking but apparently thawed, Light reached for a small, torn-off corner of paper where it rested, clean, on the pillow next to A's hair.

It took Light only a split second to read such a simple note, recognizable as A's handwriting, and then horror made his mind go white and red and did the opposite of last time: it made him run.

He ran, not even sure of where he was going until he was there and through the door without knocking and caught by someone with their arms clamping down tight around him and not in the least bit comforting until a familiar voice gave an unfamiliar stutter and said the name that was not really his—

"K-K-kun?"

Light didn't cry, but every time he blinked he saw red so he tried not to blink, clutching white white cloth in tight fists and gasping out "he's dead" and having to use all the force in his body to make even a single sound.

"Who?" L demanded, having recovered from his stutter.

Light choked on the syllable. "A."

A brief flash of some emotion flitted across L's face before he quickly molded it back into calm. Light saw this, and at any other time he would have tried to figured it out and maybe use it, but right now all he could do was clutch at white and look into black and tug, tug, tug at fabric until he shook the other boy visibly.

"A's dead. A's dead. In our room. He left a, ah, a... a death note." God, no, _English_, how did he speak English? "A suicide note. He left a note and he's dead and there's blood and—"

"K-kun, calm down," L ordered firmly, but his arms did tighten around Light a little. "It's all right. It's too late."

"No! We have to... we have to..."

"We have to tell Mr. Wammy. Yes. But first you need to be coherent, K-kun. Take a deep breath."

Light felt annoyance prickle through the horror and latched onto it. He took a deep breath and held it, let it out. His head cleared a bit more.

"Again?"

"No, stop wasting time!"

L nodded. "Now, tell me, is there any chance A is still alive?"

It was a formality, Light knew. L knew he was smart enough to discern if someone was dead or alive. Light shook his head, reaching into his mind for facts his brain had stored but been unable to process until now. "No. The blood was totally dry. He must have been dead for..." Light felt sick for a moment, but he fought it back. He cleared his throat, "He was probably dead overnight."

"How much blood, approximately?"

"Several pints."

"Okay. Come along."

With one hand, L pried Light's fingers off of his shirt, ignoring the wrinkles that would probably need to be ironed out. With the other, he grabbed Light by the wrist and half-led, half-dragged him to Wammy's office. Light did not notice the slight, gummy red footprints he left behind.

Thankfully, Mr. Wammy was in.

L knocked calmly and it wasn't long until Wammy opened his door, smiling at them until he noticed Light's face, which was almost as white as A's.

"What happened," he asked firmly, already out the door.

"A," Light whispered, trailing after him.

Wammy didn't even blink, just roared "ROGER" at the top of his lungs as he took off in the direction of Light's room. The other man was almost instantly at his side, falling into step and asking no questions as the four of them rushed to the scene of the red.

* * *

Wammy, hair wild, clutched the note in his hands, now stained red, as the paramedics slowly removed the body. Roger stood close beside him, silent, pale.

"A 'does not equal' L," Wammy mumbled to himself, not really asking for an answer. "A, the mathematical symbol, L. He... wasn't L? He wasn't equal to L? Could... someone have done this to him?"

"Unlikely," L said, putting a thumb to his lip. Wammy looked down at him and blinked. "K-kun was here all night. Surely a murderer would have caused him to awaken. This leaves K-kun himself as the only suspect, and I can attest that he was immaculate, if panicked and bed-ruffled, when he fled to my room. Additionally, it is highly unlikely that K-kun would have killed A, given that he was in love with him."

Light opened his mouth to protest this but L had said it with such confidence that no one would have believed him that... okay, yes, he was in love with A, so what?

"Yes... of course," Wammy agreed, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand and succeeding only in streaking his glasses. "Roger. I... cancel classes for the rest of the day. Gather everyone in the cafeteria, staff and students and faculty. Mandatory gathering, no exceptions, immediately."

Roger nodded and disappeared to complete his tasks.

Wammy swiped at his eyes again and was clearly trying not to look at A's bed.

"Mr. Wammy," L said calmly, as if they were all just having a pleasant chat, "I recommend K-kun be transferred into my room immediately. I am sure that my current roommate would be more than happy to get away from me, and considering his fondness for the macabre I believe he would be far more comfortable in this room than would K-kun."

"Hm?" Wammy blinked a few times. "Yes, rooms, very well," he managed. "Make it happen."

"Thank you."

Light apparently got absolutely no say in this, but since he didn't have a better solution (and he really didn't want to stay in here) he kept quiet, wondering if L's roommate really would like the blood stains or if L just hated him.

"Get to the cafeteria, you two," Wammy said heavily after a few moments. "You have had an eventful hour."

They obeyed, largely in silence. When they had nearly reached their destination, Light stopped L with a hand on his arm.

L stopped and, curious, turned to him.

Light had never felt the need to 'confess' before, but this time he did and it had to be L. There was no one else. "I think," he said when L came to a halt, looking at him with wide, dark eyes, "That A was alive when I came into the room last night. I... I thought he was asleep, so I didn't turn the light on, and he groaned... I thought it was because the hall light had disturbed him... but he was so still for the rest of the night... I think he... he bled out with me right there."

L gave that a long silence. "It was an action that had been coming for a long time," he said finally. "Even had you prevented him last night, it would still have happened later."

That hadn't been what Light was expecting. He'd been expecting _Well, yes, you killed him then _or a general insult to his intelligence, or something equally L-like and unhelpful. Maybe even a psychology lecture. "I..." he started, but he didn't know what to say, so he ended up with, "Thanks for letting me move in with you."

"It was the most beneficial arrangement," L replied, shrugging and starting them walking again. Then he smirked, although in voice only. "Besides, my dear ex-roommate has been rude to me for years and he detests blood."

Light laughed shakily. "Right." He wiped at his eyes, and as his hands fell down, he simply needed something to hold onto. His fingers caught the hem of L's shirt and curled there, hanging on.

L glanced over at him, but said nothing, and together they walked to the cafeteria.


	30. Aftermath

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Hello! I am approaching finals week and miraculously found myself with free time, so… I wrote! This one is a bit short but I figured I should post it now rather than later, and anyway another chapter is coming within the next few days. My hope is to write yet another chapter over spring break, as well.**

* * *

Light dropped the hem of L's shirt when they were within sight of the cafeteria. L glanced over at him at this, but said nothing. He didn't look surprised, which in turn did not surprise Light.

When they entered the cafeteria, however, all eyes turned on them. The 24… 23… letters other than themselves, and the teachers, and the staff, may not have been L or Light, but they weren't stupid. It wasn't hard to see from Light's face, or even L's, that something had happened. And for classes to be cancelled, and a mandatory meeting called…

For once not caring what people would think, Light followed L when L went to sit down. L approached a table (Light close behind), stopped abruptly, and diverted their path to a different table. Sitting down felt like collapsing but Light tried to do it with at least some grace. He folded his arms and put them on the table, then his head on the table. People were whispering, speculating, and Light heard someone go through the alphabet to check who was present.

"Where's A?" someone whispered to someone else.

"Probably studying…"

"-mandatory, it wouldn't be like him to…"

"K and L sitting togeth-"

Light didn't move. He didn't have the energy or the desire to perform right now. Soon, he'd make a fuss about being a martyr for rooming with L. He'd tell people that L watched him change every night, that he kept the room intolerably cold, that he ate cake and left white frosting streaks everywhere, then pretend it wasn't really frosting but that he was too innocent to realize what it 'was.' But not today. Today, the boy he liked had been found dead in their room, and L had been simply decent to him, and Light was going to give both of them a break. Just for today.

The meeting was a bit of a blur. Light didn't pick up his head, and L didn't move from his folded-up position on the seat beside him, sitting very still except for his usual thumb gnawing. Light made a mental note to look at his thumbs at some point when he was asleep—if he ever slept— and see if they were bloody stumps or not.

Bloody. Poor choice of words.

Wammy came in at some point. Roger got up and stood beside him. They spoke, one of them did anyway, probably Wammy but Light wasn't sure. Someone gasped, there was a murmur, someone wailed. Light hoped it was W, the bitch. She could have had A and she'd let _Light_ get between them…

When everything went quiet, Light finally looked up. Wammy and Roger had sat down and everyone seemed to be in shock. Silent, except for some whispering and shuffling. Light scanned the crowd. A few people were staring mutely at their friends, faces stunned and uncomprehending. Wammy was rubbing his face and Roger was snaking an arm around him, rubbing up and down his back. W was whispering furiously with her friend, who was nodding hard. C… was looking at him. From the table L had almost sat them at. He blinked, looking back. There was concern in C's eyes, something that Light hadn't seen in ages, and for a long moment they just looked at each other. Slowly, Light raised his hand in greeting. C raised one back. Then B's hand caught C's and he kissed it, and C smiled and leaned back against him, turning towards him to kiss his cheek in response, eyes closing.

Light looked away, back down at the table.

A was dead. Just… dead. Simply dead. He'd killed himself and now he was dead. And C was taken by B in every possible definition of the word. Who did that leave for Light?

He knew the answer, but refused to think it. He did, however, glance over at the boy in question. He seemed to be considering the ceiling.

God, he was still in his pajamas. Light stood up abruptly, the first of anyone to do so though the meeting had been dismissed. A few pairs of eyes turned on him, and he realized that his clothes were in his bedroom which was currently drenched in blood. He sat back down.

L was looking at him now. "I have some clothes," he said, only loud enough for Light to hear, correctly guessing at the intent of Light's aborted mission. "If you don't mind T-shirts and jeans, of course."

"Thanks," Light managed. But he did mind t-shirts and jeans. They would be too big, and they'd probably smell like L, and he wanted his _own_ clothes. But A had screwed that up now. He could never go back into that room. Maybe he could make someone do it for him? He shook his head and buried it in his arms again. No, that would be acting, manipulating, and he was _so _tired of…

"K-kun?"

Surprise that L was addressing him again, he peeked up.

"Would you like me to collect your things from your room?"

Light stared at him.

L waited.

"…Why?" Light asked finally, sitting up and facing him fully.

Face as blank as ever, L simply looked at him. "It seems the polite thing to do, K-kun."

Light's eyes narrowed. L had now been nice to him several times in the same day. It had to be some sort of sabotage, didn't it? Getting him to let his guard down now that they were roommates?

"Sure," he said finally. "Thank you, L. That would be great."

"Very well." L inclined his head, then slumped off his chair, cramming his hands into his pockets. "Until tonight, K-kun."

"Right…"

L shuffled away.

Light watched him go.

B was staring.

* * *

It was a strange day, and Light spent a majority of it thinking he needed to catch A up on all the drama. There had been a suicide. Classes were cancelled (and how was A handling that? Was it relaxing him or stressing him out?). He was getting a new roommate! Then, of course, the reason for all of those things came back to him, and he forgot what he had just been doing and stared blankly at it for a minute.

Mostly, he spent the day in the library. Actually it was spent solely in the library. He did, however, change from chair to chair. The first place he'd sat had been where he used to tutor A. Force of habit. Then he'd moved to a nice little sofa tucked in a corner, but that had made him look like he was hiding, which he sort of was.

He pulled a book out at random and got a book about math theory. He crammed it back into its place and crossed the library to get as far away as possible.

No one else came to the library that day, or that evening, and Light didn't leave it so he saw no one. No one looked for him, no one brought him dinner. Someone who passed by the large windowed wall of the library saw him, waved at him, and kept going. Probably, other people were sad about A. The boy had spent a lot of time studying in his room, but everyone knew everyone and he'd had some particular friends other than Light. But they also all had someone else they could go talk to, and no one was thinking of him, clearly. Why would the most popular boy in school want to talk to _them_? Certainly he had someone to talk to.

It was ten, and A had been dead for nearly a full day, and Light just sat with a random (non-math) book from the shelves on his usual nighttime chair, pretending to read it.

L had been… nice. Nice about his confession, nice about where they sat, nice about moving Light's stuff, if he'd actually gone through with that. It could be manipulation, but Light couldn't imagine what L would get out of it. Perhaps, like he'd speculated, it was to build trust. Perhaps he honestly just felt bad for him…

It was eleven, and Light still had no intention of moving until he absolutely needed to sleep. Even then, he was considering just sleeping in the library. Surely he wouldn't get in trouble for that, and if he did he could play the dead roommate card.

He heard the door open, its unique, low creak filling the silent library. He didn't look up, already knowing who it would be. The door was quiet for a moment, and then there were soft, shuffling footsteps and the higher-pitched creak of the door closing.

Light kept fake-reading as L padded to 'his' armchair and crunched himself up on it. He heard the 'shhik' of a book being pulled from the nearest bookshelf, and the brush of the pages as it was opened. He heard L clear his throat quietly and shift around a bit, then go still.

Light didn't look up. L hadn't come for him, he'd come because this was Library Time. Time for them to sit silently across from each other or to have multi-layered conversations full of subtle accusations. He knew L got off on it, so surely that's why he was here now. It couldn't be for Light, even though he'd been nice earlier…

They sat together for an hour, neither of them saying a word. When his watch said it was midnight, he glanced over his book at L. He hadn't changed positions at all since his initial shuffling.

Light was reluctant to break the silence so he didn't, even when L looked up at him, examined his face for a few long seconds, and finally stood. Light watched as L slouched towards the door and then stopped just by it and stood there. He couldn't imagine what L was doing so he didn't try very hard, and simply continued watching as L continued standing.

Eventually, L turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well what?" Light asked, surprised by the sound of his own voice. He sounded exhausted.

"Well, K-kun, do you wish to continue sitting there staring at the same page of text for another few hours, or would you like to go to our room?"

He was waiting for him? Light slowly stood. He took his time putting his book away, because if L was just messing around he'd probably get bored and leave him behind. L, however, waited until Light had put the book back, straightened the chairs, turned off the lamp, crossed the room to straighten another chair he'd sat on earlier. He waited through every task Light could think to invent, and finally Light met him at the door.

"Ok."

L nodded. He opened the door and held it for him. Eyes on L's, Light exited, and led the way to his new room.


	31. Frenching

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Special thank you to DustAddCharacter, who gave me several ideas for this fic! Also, I apologize for my French. I did the best that I could do considering I know zero French. If you happen to know it and would like make corrections, send me a message with the lines to insert and that would be awesome!**

* * *

Sleeping in the same room as C for the first time, so many years ago, had been odd. They'd been total strangers and then simply been told to sleep. It had always struck him as odd that he was expected to be entirely defenseless in front of someone he'd never met before that very day, and everyone seemed to just assume that neither of them was a serial killer who might start on his serial killing adventure with his brand-new roommate. He hadn't been murdered, of course, and eventually after knowing C well enough to be reasonably certain that C wasn't going to kill him, sleeping in the same room hadn't seemed so odd.

Moving in with A hadn't felt as weird. It had been done out of necessity, and they'd already been fairly close. The first night, Light had just been excited. It had been like a sleepover, or at least what he imagined a sleepover to be like.

With L, it was somewhere in between.

He knew L. Possibly, he even knew L fairly well. He knew a bit of his backstory, knew what he liked and hated, was possibly the only person who truly understood the level of genius he was at. However, he wasn't 100% sure that L wouldn't do something to him in the night. L was unreadable and, as far as Light was concerned, unpredictable, and while Light wasn't actively _afraid _that L would murder him, because it seemed like a stupid thing to do in a house full of budding detectives, it crossed his mind as he got into bed that night that L perfectly well could, and that if he woke up to L crouching over him with a dagger he wouldn't be overly surprised.

Still, though, he did manage to sleep. Living with L would be good for his reputation in several ways. It would make him look good to the others, and it would be a situation where he could honestly be himself in his room without damaging someone's opinion of him—L already knew, and wasn't any better. Presumably L would get benefits too, because although he didn't care what Light could do for or to his reputation, living together meant that Light was nice and close for L to keep an eye on.

Those were the thoughts Light had as he dozed off, and the last thing he saw before he was totally unconscious was L crunched up at his chair, typing rapidly at his computer.

* * *

Light slept hard, so although it was several hours later when he was startled awake it felt like it had been several minutes. His eyes went to the clock immediately and saw that it was 4AM, and his first thought was 'turn on the lights.' He fumbled for where his lamp should be and nearly fell out of bed when there wasn't even a side table there. "Urg!" He wobbled, flailed, and caught his balance at the last minute, flopping back fully onto safety. He lay there for a minute, eyes wide and panting from his intense wakeup, before he realized that there must have been something that had caused it.

He sat up, more careful this time, and scanned the darkened room. There was a streetlight right outside this new window he shared with L, and while the blinds were closed it did still slightly illuminate their room, turning it a soft yellow wherever the light reached and casting shadows wherever it didn't. The room was undisturbed. No one was dead in the bed next to him (the very first place he looked), no one was at the door, no one was in the window. It was just him and L, still crunched up in his chair in front of his glowing computer, head tucked to his chest like a bird…

Asleep?

Light watched. Yes, L had fallen asleep, but it didn't look like he'd meant to. He was still in his clothes, still logged into his computer, and, of course, still crumbled into his chair. He was definitely not conscious.

It didn't seem to be a peaceful sleep, though. As Light watched, L twitched. It made his chair tip a little.

"_S'il vous plaît arrêtez…_"

Light automatically backed up. It was a mumbled and a little hard to understand, but it still wasn't every day he heard someone begging him in French to stop. He took several steps back and watched from there. "Sorry, I didn't know you were awa-"

"_S'il vous plaît arrêtez…_"

Not awake then. Talking in his sleep? Was this something he did a lot? No wonder Q had never spent any time in the room…

Light shrugged and headed back to bed. As he lifted the covers to climb into it, L whimpered and twitched again. Light turned back around.

"S-_S'il vous plaît a-arrêtez…_"

It didn't sound good and L did _not _sound happy. He must be dreaming?

Light approached again, hoping that L wouldn't suddenly wake up or he would have to explain why he was creeping towards him in the dark at 4AM.

Another jerk and a louder cry. "_Mère, non!"_

Light hurried over. A nightmare. 'Mother, no.' Obvious. L's awful parents, from whom Wammy had kidnapped him. However, this wasn't going to continue. He was _not _going to listen to this all night when he should be sleeping. This must have been L's plan all along, room with him and deprive him of sleep because L had yet _another _ridiculous habit…

He put a hand on L's shoulder and shook it. "Wake up."

L curled away with a sound like he was being stabbed. Light jumped back, hands flying off of him, but L didn't stop fighting, even though there was nothing to fight anymore. He cried out and thrashed, like he was pushing something away or warding something off, curling up at the same time and begging over and over to stop, mother no, please stop.

"_Réveillez-vous!__"_ Light demanded, trying it in French to see what happened. "Would you just…"

It made L cry out louder and draw his arms back in and stop moving, made his voice into a whimper of _"__Désolé, désolé, je suis désolé…__"_

Light was at a loss, but at least L wasn't moving or yelling anymore. He could probably sleep through this without too much trouble—he'd gotten used to B and C, after all. Considering his job done, he got back into bed and rolled so that his back was to L.

After a while, the whimpering faded to a murmur, and from a murmur it went quiet. Light was finally able to sleep when L shut up.

That night, Light dreamed of A and a room full of blood.

* * *

For the next several days, people stared at Light.

Light was used to feeling watched— usually someone was looking at him, either for an idea of what to do, or because he was saying something clever, or because they simply enjoyed looking at him. Now, though, everyone was just staring, because Light's roommate had killed himself and because now Light was living with L and sure _something _interesting would come of at least one of those situations.

Light was not, however, used to being looked at like an animal in a zoo.

L didn't seem to notice a difference, or if he did he proceeded as if he didn't. He also didn't stare at Light, at least not more than he usually did, and not in a nosey way but a searching, intense way. So, the usual.

Sleeping in the same room as L had yet to have any horrifying consequences. Not even for L, because Light had yet to make up any rumors about that. Living with him was just… fine. L made noise on the rare nights he slept, but if he went and snapped at him in French and shoved him it made him curl up like a pill bug and quieted him down, so that was tolerable. It was a place to sleep and a place to keep his stuff, which L had arranged exactly as Light had had it in his room with A, before, and he didn't even have to bother being polite to his roommate.

People were talking to him again, but they were treating him carefully, so Light went with it, acting lost and sad, openly crying at A's memorial, ignoring L when L rolled his eyes at this.

L looked really good in a suit…

He was ranked second that week because he figured it would look bad if he made first, and L said nothing about it in their room that night, even though he'd done it without studying- Light hadn't caught him studying even once, and Light perfectly well knew that L knew he'd planned for second place and hadn't bothered trying to compete. The extra class that night should have been dull, but mostly it was scary because he was second which meant he was sitting next to B (and C) who was (were) third.

Light stared blankly at Wammy as Wammy explained the assignment for that night. He let his mind wander back to when he'd met him, how Wammy had sat down with him and explained his situation, spoken moderately poor Japanese to him to make him feel better. He looked at him now and he hadn't changed much. He'd aged a little, but he still seemed like himself. Open but mysterious, calm, intelligent, observant, kind. Gentle. He couldn't imagine him killing and, more importantly, brutalizing, B's parents and godfather. This gentle man?

But he'd kidnapped L. That, he _could_ imagine. He could see Wammy in his wool coat, standing up straight and proper, releasing a gas into L's house, walking in, taking L by the hand, and leaving. L had thought his parents weren't dead when he left, but he'd been a toddler. He could be wrong. Could the gas be used in non-lethal amounts, or had he simply killed L's parents? He could imagine Wammy transporting L to England, appearing to have all the necessary paperwork, and setting him up in the House with everything he could want or need. He could imagine Wammy not even feeling bad about it, not questioning that taking a tiny L away from abusive parents, maybe even killing them, was the right thing to do.

And it was. Probably. Could kidnapping (murder?) ever be the right thing to do? And if he did kill them, then the death of B's parents matched his MO. Gassing abusive parents. Abduction of a genius child.

But. They hadn't found a shred of evidence that B was abused at all, even though they'd asked everyone they could think of. There had been no signs of it in the house. It didn't necessarily mean they'd not mistreated B, but if they hadn't, would Wammy kill a genius child's decent parents just to take the child? It was Wammy's gas they'd found at the scene of the crime.

But why would Wammy let them investigate the scene if his gas was still on the premises? He knew how they thought and functioned, because he'd trained them to think and function that way. Surely he knew that if he'd brought them to the house, they would find the gas canister. And he knew that Light had been in his lab, could have seen the gas… Maybe he thought there was no way he could have remembered?

Where had Wammy been when they were murdered? Light didn't know and had no way of finding out. And why had Wammy taken them off the case _just _as they'd started to put things together? It could just be coincidence. And Wammy hadn't seemed to know who B was before being told about him.

Light's eyes slid to B, who for once wasn't staring at him or C or L, but was looking at and listening to Wammy as C traced patterns on the crook of his arm with light fingers. His face was neutral, though he was leaning towards the soft touches from C, and though he was staring at Wammy there was no hate in his eyes. Not like how he looked at L. B was violent. Light… thought. His amygdala thought, anyway. He had no real proof of it. He'd given them a hint that led them to the decrepit house next to the Birthday household, where they'd found the murder rooms. He seemed to _know_. And he was creepy and scary and terrifying but Light had no proper reason to think it was he who killed his family. But why would B lead them to his murder scene?

Surely it was B. Surely it wasn't Mr. Wammy. Even though they both had opportunity and motive.

But the means. The gas Mr. Wammy invented. How could B have gotten the gas? He didn't have a way of finding that out either.

He tried to focus for the rest of the class, but it was difficult when on his right was B, a possible murderer, on his left was L, a kidnap victim who really… _really _had looked good in that suit earlier, and in front of him was Wammy, who may have orchestrated it all from the start.


End file.
